| You |
[09 Mar 2007|09:29pm] |
|
I will always hold a place for you in my heart.
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| Dear Lauren. |
[27 Nov 2006|06:11pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 cold |
] |
I loathe burberry
The print.
The smell.
The horrific nostalgia.
There was a time in my life.
I dated a gentleman.
He scared me.
He scarred me, for life.
...And...He wore burberry.
He had burberry slippers.
He had burberry pajamas.
He had a burberry scarf.
He had a burberry watch.
He had burberry gloves.
And he wore burberry for men.
But he didnt have a phone, or a car.
He sad silently across the table from me.
He refused to eat.
He barely spoke.
He mostly sat in silence and watched me.
He asked if he could eat the pepperoncini off my sandwich plate.
He tried to kiss me.
He pouted when I got a phone call.
He asked me 6 times if he looked good in his jeans.
He asked me to split one piece of See's Candy with him.
He invited me up, to listen to his collection of "Oasis" albums.
I smelled someone wearing that scent today.
I almost lost it.
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| Freud would love her too |
[14 Dec 2005|03:07pm] |
Sometimes I wonder what it might be like.
If I were to meet myself.
You know.
The person people meet...when they meet me.
I wish I could meet that girl.
And watch her every move.
I wonder when I would notice the way she bites her tongue when she is focusing intently.
I wonder when I would notice the way she throws her head back and to the left almost every time she laughs.
I wonder when I would notice the way she cares deeply about everything.
I wonder what judgemental things I might think about her because I didnt 'get' her.
I wonder when I would realize who she really was.
I wonder when I would get to be her friend.
I wonder how I would meet her.
I would really like to meet her.
She could very well be my new best friend.
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| FireFly From Hell |
[25 Nov 2005|06:16am] |
Tinkerbell was the epitome of delicate grace.
Yet...she was brilliant.
Yes.
You can call me tinkerbell.
I dont mind.
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| Ain't that America |
[11 Oct 2005|10:16am] |
Dear
Warped American Society,
Today I told my dad I was going to make apple pie.
It's his favorite dessert.
And I thought he would enjoy it.
But, he told me he cut out "carbs."
He said that you told him that this was healthy, and safe, and a good way to shed those unwanted pounds.
My dad is a good man.
He is a simpleton and enjoys things like family, intellectual books, and golfing.
He doesnt drink, smoke, or read dirty magazines...and he always acts interested in my life even if he is not.
I just dont understand why you had to take HIM!
He feels concerned about his weight because you told him he was fat.
He thinks cutting carbs is the way to go because you told all of his colleagues the same thing.
I know you are uneducated and regularly misinformed.
I know you are undeniably feebleminded, and ignorant.
I dont agree with you on many if any issues.
But, I rarely argue. Atleast not to your face.
I am smarter than that.
All I ask is that you would release my dad from your idiodic, unethical, below average ideals.
He is all I have.
And I just want to make him an apple pie without you whispering in his ear that it is "bad."
You should really get a life, learn how to read, drive, eat, tip and pay attention to your kids.
Your stupid diet crazes are underresearched and overrated.
Please stay off our property and out of my dad's head.
Thank You.
I officially hate you.
-Sincerely and Courteously
Katie Aimee Kennedy
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| Only God Knows |
[27 Sep 2005|06:38am] |
He called me first.
I told him I was too busy.
I am so sorry Jeff.
.love.
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| You ARE a psycho... now comb your hair. |
[07 Sep 2005|10:28am] |
I call it "vending machine anxiety."
It can strike at any time.
But generally it occurs in well-lit, densely populated areas, with lots and lots of very good looking people.
Such as:
jr. high school
high school
colleges
universities
clubs
dances
pretty much anywhere where the beautiful people are.
You just want to get a little sip of that clear, 20 fluid ounces, 'Aquafina Purified Drinking Water' bottle.
When it happens...
You stand in front of the vending machine with no coin change and nothing but mangled, flacid 1$ dollar bills...and a 20$.
You straighten it.
You crisp it.
You run it along a sharp corner.
And you insert it in with a midas touch.
...the machine rejects it.
You're a brazen soul...you may even try again...
And then...it happens.
The machine EATS YOUR FLABBY, FORMLESS, NO GOOD, LIMP bill!
Pop question hot shot.
What do you do!?
WHAT...do...you...do?
Do you suck it up and walk away?
Do you stick another one in and risk it also getting masticated by said machine?
Do you kick and scream? And yell and shout?
Do you thrust the weight of your body against the glass panel hoping for a release of some loose nickels and dimes?
Or do you notice your grotesque reflection in the glass and all the pretty people staring.?
..."THERE IS NOTHING TO SEE HERE PEOPLE!"
.........as you curse and mutter obscenities under your breath at that Pepsi machine.....
DANGIT!I knew I hated Pepsi!
Suck it! Coin-Op!
I am going to 7-11.
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| Rockstar Renae gets some LJ action every now and then |
[01 Sep 2005|12:17pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 bouncy |
] |
September 1, 2005
Hi Diary,
It's me.
Renae.
Renae Tyndall.
Diary,
He has called 6 times.
6 TIMES!!!
Wouldnt he get a clue.?!
I mean stomping grapes is fun.
But...
I didnt call him back the first 5 times...
After that, I would think he'd know.
I am a good surfer.
I am by no means "competitive worthy"
save the flattery. It will get you nowhere with me.
shmuck.
O Grape Man,
Hair replacment therapy has become more accessible and easily affordable to those who in the past have not been able to have such a luxury.
Please look into it.
Also, I am only 22.
22!
shmuck.
<3 r*r
::note to self::
Dont be single and in your thirties...whatever it takes.
Thanks Diary,
You're the best listener ever.
|
|
| As we run. |
[25 Aug 2005|12:00am] |
She looked like she had already been running for a long way.
My car instictively got in the left hand turn lane to make a U-Turn before logic and reason could click in and tell me something against this.
As I pulled up next to her...
A certain braveness entered my body.
I knew she had been running down the same streets I had run.
I knew she had been crying the same tears I had cried.
"Do you need a ride somewhere?" ,I inquired.
She hesistated and then got in.
It was quiet.
"Where can you take me?" ,she asked.
"Anywhere you want to go." ,I answered.
"Just so you know" ,she said, "I wasnt running away"
"I know" I told her "I dont care either"
"But those boots looked uncomfortable." "I wouldnt want to walk a block in those. Much less a mile."
She almost smiled. I wish she would have.
"Do you smoke?" ,she asked.
"No." I replied.
"But, if you want to...go ahead. I dont really care at this point."
silence. smoke. coldplay. sweat.
...and 20 minutes later...we came to the women's shelter.
"Please take this money and this book." I said.
One will give you something to eat.
And the other will give you hope past this world.
She took them.
As she mouthed thank you.
They took her in at the door.
...I never even knew her name.
It could have been anything.
She looked like a Cassandra, or Christine or Christy.
But what's in a name?
That which we call a rose by any other
name would smell as sweet.
Sweet Sweet Christine.
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| Car Accident |
[05 Jul 2005|12:17am] |
It was Gnar.
I thank you for your overwhelming concern.
I assure you I am doing fine.
However...
Flowers, cards, money, hugs, dinners at expensive steakhouses, more flowers, or jewelry are always gladly accepted.
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| Being grown up isnt half as fun as growing up |
[24 Jun 2005|11:26am] |
I was thinking "WOW!"
This reliable little honda gets some freaking amazing gas mileage.
I had driven almost 300 miles according to my trip meter,
And the needle that measures the gas had moved...but barely.
Freeway miles.
It must be those freeway miles!.
I had driven to Los Angeles twice.
San Diego Twice.
Then out to Temecula.
...and then somewhere near Guajome Lake...
There was a cough, a sputter, and...nothing.
A sound that could be attributed to nothing other than...running out of gas.
Crap.
I think I was more dissappointed that my car didnt get the amazing gas mileage I had been bragging about than the fact that I was out of gas.
But as I sat there and waited for my AAA knightinshiningarmor...
...I remembered the last time I was stuck at this exact intersection.
It was 2:00 in the morning. I was 15. I had just learned how to drive stick the week before. I was so proud of my new found skills. My friend was 17. She was very drunk. Her car was very stick. I had the brilliant idea of driving her and all my other drunk friends home. In my mind it was better to drive without a license than to drive drunk.
First gear....success...we were on our way...
Second gear, third, fourth...
...Until Guajome Lake Rd. and 76.
Fast cars. Pressure. I crumbled beneath it.
A car full of drunk teenage girls stalled in the middle of a highway intersection.
I sat there contemplating my life.
Frozen.
Praying to a God I had refused to believe in.
My heart was pounding and I shaking too much.
I realized all my friends were yelling at me to go.
One of them was crying.
I managed to get us home...
But...
That intersection is cursed.
Later in my life I would also curse North Santa Fe and Sagewood.
Where Marissa and I were fist fighting in the car over who should be driving.
Until we both got out and decided to switch.
Chinese Fire Drill Style.
She inadvertantly locked the doors.
Car running.
Emergency break...not on.
There we both stood, 16 years old, 1:00 in the afternoon... as we watched her little Jetta roll down the hill until it hit the sidewalk by the lake and come to a stop.
We stood in the middle of the street laughing and crying all at once.
El Camino Real and Oceanside Blvd.- stall...roll back...hit a car behind me...they took off.
Traffic on San Marcos Blvd. and Avenida De La Rosas - Marissa stalled rolled back...hit car....they didnt take off...they took her for all she was worth.
Half Moon Bay - Had to slam on my break on the Highway One. Forgot the clutch. Stalled. Got hit. Cried.
Business Park - Traffic...stalled...almost hit car...didnt. Pulled over...refused to drive stick for a long time.
...So there I sat waiting for Mr. AAA.
Hmmm...I guess I should probably get that needle fixed.
|
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| These are the things that life is made of |
[23 Jun 2005|08:16am] |
Remember when life was simple...
And things like dinosaurs kept you up late at night with goosebumps and wide eyes...
The thought of a tyrannosaurus Rex breaking into your room in the wee hours of the morning was enough to make you wet your bed.
...Or maybe you were just a bed wetter.
That sucks...
Because you were well into the double digits...and you couldnt control that pee pee.
Or when your mom brought out that birthday cake and it was so bright and sparkling with a candle for every year of your life.
Everyone would watch in anticipation as you would conjur up the best wish you could.
And somewhere in your heart you believed with everything your 47lb. body possibly could...that your wish would see its fruition.
Or when you had a loose tooth.
You told everyone.
You wiggled it.
And jiggled it.
Sometimes you bent it so far it was basically hanging by an invisible string.
And you did it just to make you mom gasp in sheer horror.
Sometimes that tooth refused to vacate itself from the premises of your tiny little mouth.
Thats when your mom would interfere.
Like the referee. Time-Out. It's "Let's Make A Deal Time"....If you let me tie a string around that tooth and shlep it prematurely from your yapper...I will MAYBE give you half the amount of slaverish chores you normally spend 99% of your childhood doing.
Okay.
It's a deal.
....And then you would scream. But it didnt hurt. Much to your amazement. But you wouldnt admit that.
And their was your tooth. In its slobbery gooey goodness. Ready for the tooth fairy.
...And what a joy SHE was.
Sometime in the night you imagined her to come and stick her hand under your pillow, exchange your plaque infested baby tooth, and offer some sort of monetary exchange.
Which....was goodness.
Pure free goodness.
Or when the ice cream man would come rolling down the street.
He was usually an extremely impatient, solicitous man.
But you pretended not to notice...
As you spent upwards near 15 minutes deciding how to spend your .79$ the best way possible and get the most sugary goodness for the least amount of money.
You would decide. He would fetch your items. And then you would renig.
This was a pattern you would continue until you felt you money had been best spent and you had all you could get for what you had.
Or other times...being products of public schools you would in all your math genius glory have absolutely no concept of how much money you had.
You would just simply throw it all in front of said ice cream man.
Allow him to count it...
And begin picking items one by one looking up each time for the go ahead from him that you had enough money left.
A pattern you would continue until all your tooth fairy money was exhausted and you had all the candy you could carry in your little hands off to your secret clubhouse.
The Secret Clubhouse that everyone knew about.
Admittance allowed by password only.
...Or if I like you.
...Or if my friend likes you.
...Or if we are bored.
...Or if we want someone to boss arond.
...Or if you have candy to share.
...Or if we are bored.
And then one day someone tells you that you are an adult...
Dinosaurs arent real.
There are no more teeth to loose.
Because you ate too much candy from the candy man and all the sugar caused your teeth to decay right down to your gums.
That sucks.
Thats worse than wetting your bed.
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| sleep please. just half a glass if you dont mind |
[22 Jun 2005|01:42pm] |
6:30 a.m
And this is the third day in a row that I've been awakened at this ungodly hour by chainsaws.
Yeah...Frickin' chainsaws.
Can you believe that?
At 6 in the morning.
Yeah...it makes no sense to me either.
The sounds of inharmonious, racous power tools pervade my dreams, and strangely become intertwined and add some really strange background music to my already kooky dreams.
...Then again...I get awakened all the time.
Occasionally it's some jerk faces car alarm going off at 4 a.m because he's still befuddled with the apparently advanced technology that was used to make his remote.
I can hear the alarm go off.
The the confused middle aged yuppie "I splurged for the expensive car but I cant afford a garage to put it in" man starts to curse with almost religious fervor until he finally figures out the otherworldly contraption called the "off" button and silences the unrelenting, grating noise that has interrupted my sleep cycle.
Then, when it's nice and quiet again, I can hear him run through most of the four-letter words that he didnt use during his last tirade.
I think maybe someone should just donate some Xanax or Lithium to this jerk face.
Or perhaps just get him a small muzzle.
He has crossed over to the dark side...where I hate him.
He had 5 maybe 6 seconds of grace.
But he took an eternity...
And now...He deserves an elbow in the rib....to start.
I also have a new neighbor next door to me that has an annoying predielction towards cheesy butt rock on early Saturday and Sunday mornings.
I can hear the slow rumbling bass line from Bon Jovi's classic "livin' on a prayer."
And I just KNOW that the shmuck is dancing to it because it seriously sounds like a heard of rhinocerous' on crack cocaine playing rugby on a tin roof.
...Then in my narcoleptic haze, I find myself humming the tune, which causes me to softly sob at the thought when I peek my eyes open just a bit to see the time and realize I had another half an hour of sleep that was prematurely ripped from my already short weekend morning.
So the chainsaw massacre started last week sometime,
and I was hoping in vain that it was an isolated incident.
But it is now 1:45 in the afternoon, and I can still hear them revving their destructive machinery...
It sounds like anabolically enhanced mosquitoes on red bull and rock stars.
I dont know what kind kind of dense jungle environment they have over their in my neighbors yard...
But, I am sure that they should have found whatever they were looking for by now...
The worst part is that because of the lack of sleep...
I am constantly in a foggy, spacey, frame of mind.
Where everything seems kind of funny and I find myself laughing on public...alone...for no reason at all...
Or maybe I do that anyways...
I dont really remember.
This tends to unnerve my coworkers, friends, parents, strangers, people next to me at the post office, people behind me at the grocery store, customers at my work, drivers next to me on the road...
You know...pretty much EVERYBODY.
And really. It never gets old when people ask 10 times a day why I look so tired, or "whats wrong?!", or why I look like I slept under a small boulder.
Just keep on asking people.
I LOVE HEARING IT!
Being sleep deprived is like doing drugs all the time.
Everything is half as slow and twice as funny.
So to my hispanic neighbors, my yuppie neigbors, my anglo-saxon neighbors, the old man down the street, the little kid who does kick flips on his skate board at the exact moment I am trying to nap...
Try to be a little conscious of other people's sleep patterns.
No loud tools, faulty car alarms, or crap rock hair metal ballads.
My sanity and my eye balls thank you in advance.
Sincerely,
Katie
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| The End |
[04 Jun 2005|07:03am] |
Another time in vain.
Because I was too far gone.
Was it given the chance it deserved?
But who decides.?
Besides...
They all said it was all too good to be true.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe.
God will thwart anything. Everything. If in the end he receives .you.
Lord, you have my heart.
This. Is. My. Attention.
But, please...
I cant go on like this...
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| Happy isnt Happy if God isnt inside of it. |
[02 Jun 2005|05:42pm] |
Said best;
Someday she'll trust him.
And learn how to see him...
Someday he’ll call her
And she will come running
And fall in his arms
And the tears will fall down
And she’ll pray...
Sweet Jesus.
I want to fall in love with you.
|
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| BAL-EEEEEEEEETED!!! |
[22 May 2005|06:44am] |
Yes Davey,
I deleted your hijacked post.
It's not that it wasnt cool or anything...
It's just that it WASNT cool or anything.
Small birds and children have been known to read my livejournal.
And I am pretty sure God reads it too.
...think about that one.
pssht.
<3 katie
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| San Francisco |
[15 May 2005|09:12am] |
A little panoramic collage of the San Francisco city-scape/skyline for your viewing pleasure.
<3
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fancyluckyme's journal
