There's a scene on "Return to Me" where Minnie Driver secretly dumps out a bottle of water for a picky guest, fills it from the tap, and sticks a straw in it. Today, I was tempted. So very tempted.

Less Than 2 Months Thoughts

- Packing what you need vs. what you can do without for a whole year is stressful. Can't afford too many mistakes!

- The whole four-zip-codes-determining-status thing doesn't make sense. I see ten zip codes and an 01 church next door to an 04 church.
Or is it area codes? There are two of those?

- They call their pastors 'reverends' like in 7th heaven. I can get used to that...

- Why on earth do they make butter in lil' square gold wrappers that they also use to cover chocolate??

-
Me: Whoa! I didn't know that some baptist churches have pastors who still wear those weird robe things.
Mother: Well, you're getting into the Southern Baptist churches there. Some Baptist churches are very strict where you can't drink or dance. Well...I should say...not that you should be drinking or...whatever...You can't play cards and dance there.

- Virginia looks like a snail; Lynchburg like Spain and Portugal with a sideways heart on top.

- You just can't talk about a place you haven't experienced!

- Finding an apartment fifty bajillion miles away via la intra-net is impossible...

- WHOOT WHOOOOOT 2 MONTHS TO A STATE FULL OF NEW HOT MEN!!!!!!!!!!!! :)

I work with a boy that tries to flirt by being a jerk. It took me a little while to figure it out -- a pretty good clue that it's not a useful method. You think they'd realize: It didn't work in 7th grade it still doesn't work in the twenties!

Play it loud enough, keeps the demons at bay.

For those of you who need to know: I remain a nutcase.

I've had too much time to myself driving this week. I can't yet be trusted to be left alone with my own thoughts, and since this trip was only a few minutes shy of an hour as opposed to the four-hour treck from Marshall yesterday, I left my Ipod (Zeke!) at home. Every other song on the radio was a "Shydes Song," which still makes me lose it, or a country love song about booze and feeling up women. I scanned and scanned growing more and more frustrated and sick and at the last moment on the verge of a major break down (which, by the way, I decided to call someone so I wasn't alone and could be given some perspective, but found I had also accidentally left my phone, Petey!, at home). I was hot flashing, angry, and desperate. Ok. What. can. I. do. Do I have a CD player with me? -checks cubby- No. -checks around on the floor and inbetween the seats- Aha!

I found (get this) young Amy Grant's "The Collection" cassette tape from like freaking before my brother was even born (!) and popped it in as my last resort. Cheesy 80s drum beats...jazzy keyboard do-dads...hilarious.

But it did the trick.

Where do you hide your heart?

Leave your cares behind you.

Love's coming back.

Emmanuel.

I have decided.

In a little while.

Sing your praise to the Lord.

The past few nights of haunting dreams have found me in desperation to leave this state.

The past few days of breakfast, brunch, lunch, coffee, dinner, and dessert dates has left me wanting to stay forever. You are all engraved upon my heart.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Yesterday while sitting at P.K. Egan's restaurant in Canby next to a group of people that included a young boy, about ten years old, and a bigger-boned lady, we over hear a loud, "Maybe you swallowed a watermelon seed and are growing a watermelon inside of you and that's why your stomach is so big!" Instant red filled the lady's cheeks as she scanned the room to see who was paying attention.

Luckily, we were sitting with a friend of hers who was able to tell us that she is, in fact, expecting. (We all let out a big, audible "ppheeew!")

Kids are so blunt.

Mr. B

Driving home from Canby today, Nathan and I were a bit whipped from the Junior High all-nighter event at the YMCA. At one point, Nathan started driving to the shoulder of the road, eyes closed, and so he let me take the wheel. After switching places, I sang to Twilight and he fell into a deep slumber within a minute - twitches and all. Of course these are the times our thoughts take over.

I snuck some peeks at Nathan as he was soundly sleeping to the right of me. He had his arms crossed mummy-style and jaw slightly open -- a sight I am all too familiar with. It brought me back to January of my 7th grade year, waiting for him to wake up. I remember he sat mummy-style, not moving, for.ev.er. Later in his healing stages, he would have slimy teeth and lips with caked on white chunks from laying idle and never moving his mouth (handsome, I know!). You'll be glad to know that he didn't have that same condition this time :) But I can still remember exactly what it looked like.

I remembered Kyle's voice questioning why God spared Natie and yet took Andy. Same situation. Same crash. Same side. Same. And way, way, hugely, drastically different.

I would be no other place. I would be no other place than driving my exhausted big brother and I safely back home from a day with God. I know.

I know not why Andy left us so young, but I will never ever question why God spared Nathan. He has no idea how much I need him. His steady plodding faith. His strength and courage. The way his students revere and admire him. We walk into a restaurant, "It's Mr. B! Mr. B is out there!" we hear from the back kitchen. The way they strive to be like him. To learn from him and take after him. I know. I am the same way.

He has no idea what I've seen this year - the places I found myself in. He has no idea that in a world that beats me down and finds me lost, I always look to him and know there's more. There's more to this life. A steady man in a chaotic life.

I need his refreshing light everytime I forget.

I love my job. (really).

A bunch of 80 year old men thinking you're hot stuff because you wipe tables.

Mr. Overton: Kate! You married?
Me: Noope! Not for a whiiiile!
Mr. Overton: Got a boyfriend?
Me: Not today!
Mr. Overton: Wellp. Those West Virginia boys are going to be all over you!
Me: Ha ha. Well thank you, Mr. Overton!

Mr. Schlimik: Got a boyfriend, do you?
Me: Not today!
Mr. Schlimik: WEEEllllll!
Me: Good boys are hard to come by these days, you know!
Mrs. Schlimik: Yes! You are very right!
Mr. Schlimik: Well, I'll tell you a little secret. Forget the young ones... You need to marry a rich old man!!
Me: I'll definitely keep that in mind, Mr. Schlimik!

Mr. Bealt: Sure is a good thing you're learning those skills early! Make a good housewife!

Mr. Anderson: You sure keep things nice here! I'll take you at my house! You forget how much you take for granted when your wife dies!

My Boss: Didn't I just tell you to quit flirtin'!

Men never change. Independent, my ass.

Regardless - I love my 80 year old breakfast club.

I just want boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. PLEASE, GOD! Give me boys.

Curiosity.
Adventure.
Exploration.
Lack-of-sit-still-ability.

The four-year-old neighbor boy gave me a dandelion today. I was about to "ooo, aww" at the sweetness of heart when he chirped, "You can pay me, if you want to!"

Sly. Smart and sly.

What a bright future he has!

Lessons in Gilmores

The other day I was telling Em and Danny that I'm not sure if I can marry someone really smart, because I'm dumb (as in, Chad just taught me New Jersey was not a city in New York a few weeks ago...), but I can't marry someone dumb because I'm somehow successful and get awesome grades and awards and stuff (don't know at all where they come from...) and I know I'll be strong and independent and have a future that makes people think you're smart. Dilemma! What's a girl to do!?

Anyway, so. I just finished an episode in Season 5 of Gilmore Girls. Loralie was looking frantically around the apartment for her keys that were discovered by Luke in the door after much hassle. My no-longer-roommate would testify to the amount the scene relates to my life. I whined at him nearly every day for my lost keys that made me late for nearly every class. (They are so small and so hard to hold on to!) I realized today that I, like Loralie, may appear "dumb" and ditsy on the outside - lack of 'street smarts', if you will - while in reality I can accomplish a whole lot. Loralie is a remarkable woman - I am impressed by her character. And she's also really dumb sometimes...

There is hope :)

Life's Blessings

I love life. I can't wait to teach. I love grammar. I love boys with strong hands. I love hippie hair. I can't wait to hike in the mountains and swim in the ocean and tour DC and NYC and Boston and everywhere possible. I can't wait to chaperone dances and go to my students' sporting events. I love cooking and baking for people. Hosting parties. I can't wait to meet all my new Virginian friends. I can't wait to have a cheap, skimpy apartment and get by on mac and cheese. Leaks. Breaks. Adventures. Panic. I love talking about Andy. I love how he lived. I love knowing he's with Jesus. I love wanting to scream about it from on top of mountains. I love my family. I love my body. Clean shaven legs. Fresh haircuts. Well-fit jeans. I can't wait to have babies. I love this season of life. I love adventure. I love dreaming. I love fresh air. I love that nothing in life is static. I love people and diversity. I love living.

Transitions.

Remind me not to be too "loving" of a parent when I grow up someday...

This morning around, oh, 8-8:30a, I got up to go to the bathroom. 8:30a people, we're not talking like...4a in the morning or some abnormal hour for people to be up and moving around!!! I'm on the pot when my mom knocks on door all frantically. Even worse, I hadn't shut the door and made it 'click' completely because I never expected someone to try and join me! The door cracked open even further making my privacy in this house even more shot.

Katie?!? What's the matter??
Uh...nothing...? I'm going to the bathroom!!!!!

CAN I NOT PEE IN MY OWN HOUSE, PEOPLE!!!???!!!! Parents are far too illogical when their children move back home. Like, do I need a reminder to turn off the lights every single night? Do I need a play by play of where my parents will be at every second of the day to follow and when I will bump into them? I've had my own house in Winona for over a year now and somehow, the lights always got turned off every night! I am not the common denominator in that equation, rentals!

The Questions of Life

It's funny how the same questions you ask going into college are the ones you ask coming out of college. We've learned, grown, changed, and yet we still have the same deepness calling out within us.

Who am I going to be?

What am I going to do with my life?

Where should I go?

Who will my friends be?

Will I be happy here?

Where does God fit in this puzzle?

What is life really even about?

What am I living for?

What do I want from this life?

How am I going to make this all work?

Adieu

I am leaving Winona a changed woman.

As I drive down the road, saying goodbye to every shop and every tree, the infamous Sugar Loaf, and the much-frequented-after-midnight Perkins, I set my gaze steady on the bluffs ahead. I just want to be with Jesus. That's all I care about anymore.

I look back on the past four years. Experiences I never imagined having. Places I never thought I'd go. People that shaped each moment of my each day. I try to imagine college without that person, without that store, without that moment, and the whole system falls apart. Not a single piece can be changed. Nothing added. Nothing taken away.

Another closed up chapter.

2nd House Boy

Meet my new roommate. Chad just said a sappy goodbye and made me bawl. New Roommy comes up the stairs to move in with gateraid in hand and biffs it on the top stair. Full out body slam into the ground. The embarrased laughter begins. "Just so you know, new roommy, I have done that about...oh...fifty bazillion times. And every time, Chad is home. And every time, Chad comes out of his room and looks at me like this: *rolled eye smirk*." New Roommy offers me a gateraid. New Roommy and I are going to get along very, very well.

Thumper.

I've been getting less and less patient with other peoples' complaints lately. Maybe it's because I'm overly sensitive. Or maybe it's because my life has dealt me hell and I have to sit and listen to people who have no idea about it grumble about some stupid little thing. Your life sucks? Go jump off a bridge. I've never been so utterly alone, with the ones I love most having turned their backs on me without even stopping to think. I'm trying to keep myself above water; I can't support the rest of the world too. So do me a favor: if you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all.

All Things Money

Why is God blessing me like this? I don't understand. I should be cursed and brought low - not aided. I have used my money in selfish ways and been an unfaithful steward. I taught a class on godly spending and I failed at my own instruction. I understand forgiveness and mercy - but grace? Not only do we not get what we justly deserve, but we get what we don't deserve.

Lord, forgive me my heart.

i hate men i hate them i hate i hate lord i hate.

My Heart Turns Violently Within My Chest

I am so. sorry. My heart aches deeply for you. God is weeping over you - You were not supposed to be hurt this way. God is in pain with you. God wants you so desperately, He will do absolutely everything to win you over. Be in his arms. Feel his love - His sincere love. His constant, never-changing love. Selfless love. You are not alone. This is not your battle. This is not the end. We have the final victory - please believe.

I'm going to have one hell of a time figuring out who I am next year.

A World Without Men.

I talked to a friend of mine tonight who was found giddily singing the Beatles's song about meeting a girl and falling head over heels. He proceeded to tell me that he saw a girl that had the prettiest smile and he wanted to run across the street and tell her how beautiful she is but "the line between romance and creeper is very, very thin" so he decided against it.

My first reaction after gaging in my throat is "Oh, please!" Then, I scanned myself to try and place myself on the scale--would anyone do that to me? say that about me? how is my smile?? am I beautiful too?

Later, I began to wonder why my natural reaction was thus. Jealousy? Anger at past hurt? Feeling inadequate? Not pretty enough? Disbelief in his interpretation of the story?

I continued on metacognitively and have since come to the conclusion (at least for now) that I have a love-hate relationship for men commenting on women's appearances. Is it really even a compliment when a boy says a girl is beautiful? Did she do anything to be pretty? No. She was birthed out of her mother's vagina with a squished head and fluid all over. Some people were given 'good' genes. Each culture, region, and time period thinks one gene should be more praised over another. So to praise someone for being 'beautiful' has nothing to do with that person at all - you're technically just saying God is real.

One could argue that some work for hours in the morning to 'create' the media's view of beauty and that is what the boys could comment on - but then instead of saying, "You are pretty," they should more appropriately say, "Your make up and hair curler and foundation worked well this morning. Great use of your resources." The tools are effective at beauty, not the girl.

Either way, it isn't even a comment on the girl - just her genes (which she can't control) and her style (which she didn't invent the means to fix up) and her society (if at that time it says that type of girl she is is 'in').

Personally, I feel "alright" by media standards. I'm dec. But I still want to rip off my skin when boys talk about how "pretty" that girl is across the room or how "hot" is a certain type.
Spare me.

You only get one - unless you're a womanizer and you decide to live it up now and die cold and alone and unhappy - so save the compliments for her (and come up with better ones!) and leave the rest of us alone. We have enough comparison issues on our own.