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There and Back Again December 15, 2007

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I have been reading a lot lately.  November, it was knitting, December, my addiction seems to be books.  I devoured several in a 24 hour span last week; the biography of Billy Bean, Major League Baseball’s first out player, Brutal, a story about the Irish mob in Boston, by Kevin Weeks, and I read Fear and Loathing for perhaps my hundredth time.  I’m working now, so I’ve been spending the vast majority of my free time in bed, attempting to numb my brain with hours of Married With Children, and of course, pure mental oblivion.  I’m leaving for Rhode Island, my third such trip in four months, on Wednesday or Thursday morning.  I can’t wait to go, but I typically enjoy making the drive by myself more than I enjoy the company of passengers.  This trip, I will have two.  Three people.  One Hyundai.  A Hall and Oates box set.  This is going to be wonderful.

I really do like my new job.  Going in, I was very nervous.  Everything I’d been told in advance made me wary that I was getting into a situation far more structured and mindless than I was really looking for, but my empty wallet forced me through the orientation and pushed away much of my nerves that first day.  Surprisingly, things have been going well.  It is “srsbsns” but I think I just might be able to fit in.  A couple of the people there seem to be about as laid back as I am, and who knows…this could really turn into a good situation for me.  Why do I always find the soup lovers wherever I end up?  As I get older, I simplify.  I’m just happy with a little cash in my pocket, some good music, an occasional roadtrip, mental obliteration, and getting to prove my talents.  Hopefully this works out. I’ve been needing something to stimulate my brain, make me socialize a bit, and keep me away from the television.  Things are getting back to normal…finally.

Farther and farther away September 11, 2007

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On the eve before yet another roadtrip, I close my eyes, and all I can see are the white highway lines blurring in the crisp gold of my headlights. Seeing as how I’m stuck in a bit of a personal rut, I’m sure this trip will have the effects of a colonic on my mind. Time to flush out all the shit for health reasons. Two tanks of gas. 600 miles. 3797 songs, two bottles of ginger ale. One pack of Camel Lights and many stories rattling around in my head. Then I’ll be where the coastline ends and where the Atlantic begins, curled tightly in a blanket between glacier boulders, 40 in hand, watching the night waves crest and crash against the billowing sea grass, possibly with a Red Sox game on the portable radio, alone.

September 3, 2007

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Corcovado parted the sky
And through the darkness
On us he shined
Crucified in stone
Still his blood is my own
Glory behold all my eyes have seen
Have seen

Some have flown away
And can’t be with us here today
Like the hills of my home
Some have crumbled and now are gone
Gather around for today won’t come again
Won’t come again

So much sorrow and pain
Still I will not live in vain
Like good questions never asked
Is wisdom wasted on the past
Only by the grace of God go I
Go I

I am blessed

I am blessed

I am blessed to be a witness.

Let’s waste time, chasing cars around our heads.

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I’m stuck in yet another rut. No work, no class, just me, a paycheck burning a hole in my pocket, and an unquenchable desire to get back on the open road.  I can’t even enjoy one idle day…I always find something to do to break up the monotony.  I lay down for five minutes, go do dishes, try to lay down again, toss around, and this cycle repeats itself to infinity.  I sleep too much when I’ve nothing to do.  I strain and cause stiff necks, I lay about entirely too much, which causes my back to ache more.  I either have too much, or too little to do.  There’s never a happy medium to be found in my life.  So, I have put out several applications with no responses yet, and while I’m not in full blown panic mode, I am feeling the wanderlust again. I’ll be on the road again soon…only ten days to daydream, but it can’t come fast enough.
I wish I could break my current writers’ block.  I’ve had it for most of the summer, barring two 3am train of thought sessions that produced material fit for the trash can. It used to be that I had a problem bringing projects to fruition.  These days, I can’t even get them started.  I need a catalyst.  Some inspirational spark, preferably not brought on by sadness or pain.

Don’t Let Us Get Sick August 31, 2007

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Scratch Ken Griffey Jr. off of my list of baseball players I must see before they retire.  As much as the man frustrates me, I suppose I shall have to attend a Pirates - Giants matchup at some point next year so that I may see Barry Bonds in person.  I’d venture to say he is the most prominent player on my list at this point, followed possibly by Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine.

Anyway, I went to the Chapel of Baseball last night with my dad who is visiting from Rhode Island.  We got quite good seats, right behind home plate, and in the second tier.  Had a railing to put our feet up on, and a great vantage point to take in a game.  I hadn’t been to a game with my dad since I was 16 or 17, so it was quite nostalgic, and I had a great time sharing something I love with someone I love.  I don’t get home nearly enough, so I cherish every bit of time I get to spend with my parents nowadays.  I doubt I would have ever said anything like that five years ago, maybe not even three.  Whoever said this cliche I’m about to perpetuate was so right.  Distance does truly make the heart grow fonder.

July 27, 2007

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I love the feel of wet stockings in my hand. They’re so delicate, almost like a thin layer of sloughing skin after a harsh sunburn, yet incredibly strong, their fibers stretching and then rediscovering their original state. I’ve been wearing stockings often. Not nylons, but stockings, the kind your grandmother wore, replete with lace, clips, sussies and the requisite belt with which to hold them. I have both a typical sheer pair and a full-fashioned set. My legs feel fresher throughout the day, as the natural compression of the stocking assists in preventing muscle fatigue, and admittedly, they give me a slight sexual charge, as even during the most mundane of work tasks, I can simply look down and see the sheer tan fabric skimming my legs gently.

July 20, 2007

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Nobody’s as stable as they seem. And when I think I’m having a rough week, there’s always someone dealing with bigger problems and issues. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping that in mind. I admit I do get a little wrapped up in my situations, but I suppose that’s normal. Today’s been a long day. A very long day. I feel like I’m holding on to my life, and to my friends with a death grip that’s slowly slipping. I know I go through moody periods, almost like a sine wave, but today, I don’t feel it. I don’t feel up, nor do I feel down. I just feel…here. I really can’t explain it, and I’m not even sure I want to. I need to get back on the road. To feel the car twist and turn beneath me as I navigate mountain roads, shifting quickly in and out of gears, with the windows down and nothing on my mind but the next mile.
Oh I ain’t comin’ home tonight. No, don’t wait up for me. No I ain’t comin’ home tonight. I’m finally free.

Sexputz July 13, 2007

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I went to the mall after work with Allison tonight, and bought a few articles of clothing, things maybe a couple months ago I would have never dared try.  I can feel change washing over me, and this time I’m not going to resist it.  I’m so damn round.  I stood there and forced myself to come to terms with my body in the harsh glare of the stark white dressing room at NY&Co. today, and I guess it’s not so bad.  I wish I could be that innately attractive, magnetic girl, but I’ve never been, nor will I ever be that type.

I got dressed up tonight when I got home…for no reason basically.  I don’t have anyone to go out with, nor do I have anywhere to go.  I guess sandwiched between athletic clothes and office wear, I wanted to prove to myself that I’ve still got a little flash of sexuality and attractiveness left in this body.  And this isn’t all meant to be self-denigrating.  I’m pretty damn comfortable with myself at 25, and I know I’ve been in a bit worse shape physically.  I would just like to tie the whole package together.

I was asked by someone quite awesome today what I would be if I could be anything, and for some reason I responded with “gynecologist.”  My reasons for this answer were lacking at best, but driving in the car tonight, I figured why my mind threw that out for contemplation.  I’d like to assist women in being the most wonderful, strong, powerful sexual beings they can be.  Keeping them safe and healthy, while at the same time ready for whatever may come.  Literally.  While I’m attracted to men, I’m also extremely entranced by female sexuality.

So I guess I’ll turn on the music that gets me fired up and feeling intense, have a glass of wine, and lay here by myself.  As Al Green would say, there’s a whole lot of things you and I could do.

journeys July 12, 2007

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I think I need to get away from here…just me, myself and I.  I need a break from the grind and stress that seems to plague me here in Pittsburgh.  I just want to get out for a couple of days.  Maybe Cleveland.  Maybe West Virginia.  I could pack my tent and a cooler and just go.  Certain things I’m not even sure I can talk about are plaguing me, and I need to break out of this everyday grind.  Sometimes I just need a little bit of time with my thoughts, and I sure have not been getting that as of late.  I’m always busy, always thinking and processing.  I really just want to turn off my mind.  Honestly, I don’t even care where I go, so long as I’m going somewhere.  The ride is more freeing than the actual trip.

Kaitie Hit The Atmosphere July 11, 2007

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For those that don’t know, I’ve been working with the computing services department of the University for approximately two months now.  When I started work, the offices were temporarily housed in the same building as my Anthropology office, which was convenient, but that building is quite cavernous, and a simple walk to the bathroom took about 6 minutes.  The old office was being renovated, and was finished to the point where we were all moved back over yesterday.

I have tuesdays and thursdays off so that I can attend 8 hours of class each day, so when I came in this morning, I had to call my co-worker to find out just where the hell the office was located.  I suppose Pitt’s never heard of signage.  Anyway, when I got there, my jaw about dropped.  I share an office with a co-worker who I really like, we have a window, and my station has two systems, one XP and one Vista, along with two flat-panel monitors.  The view from the window is wonderful, as I can see quite a bit of the city and campus.  Icing on the cake is that the building has a four lane pool in the basement, free for use by students and faculty, and a Quiznos’ right around the corner.  I swam 40 laps for lunch and got a turkey sandwich.  When 5pm rolled around, I really didn’t even want to leave.  This must be what perfection is like.  I couldn’t imagine a better work atmosphere than this.  I don’t think it is possible.  I am grateful.

Still no health insurance for me, which is quite stressful, but for once, I think things in my life are finally taking a turn for the better.  Plus, I take the bus, I re-use and recycle my water bottles, and I try to only use a few sheets of TP per bathroom trip.  That makes me special, right?  I thought so.