i Wish i Could Be On Time!

29 June 2004

I decided it was about time to dye my hair when my newest gal-pal Jillian commented to me that she "never knew I had blonde hair and that she had always imagined me with dark hair." I was pleased with this for the following reasons: I'm glad that someone could imagine me with only dark hair because that was the whole idea, to change. Also, I knew it was time for me to color my hair again, but I never got around to it for many reasons I won't go into at this time, but let's just say I was fully award of the blonde hair creeping it's way back; I just needed an excuse to spend the extra money on myself. So in between dyeing my roots and covering my whole head with dye, I thought I'd see if grades were posted for my summer class. Well, you're looking at an "A" student, according to my professor Ken anyway. Hey, it's be a delightful night, my hair looks great, smelling this lovely fruity scent, and I got an "A" in my first Oxford class! :) Shit oh dear, Kathy would be so proud...I think I'll go burn one for her. She'd appreciate that...

28 June 2004

Louisville Rolls!
So if a person would say that something rocks, then this means that something is awesome, right? But, if a person would say something rolls, then that something is bad, right? Hmmm… I thought I’d just try it on for size, I’m not sure it fits. I don’t like it. Ok, let me begin again, Louisville sucks! Bad! This is why:
#1 It’s the most boring drive ever
#2 There is nothing to do in the city
#3 Gas is ever higher there right now than in Cincinnati and it’s all the way out in the fucking boonies! WTF?!
Wolfe decides that he wants to go a new place every weekend. Ok, I can do that, so long as I can drive (that way I’m in control, not only with the speed, but the music), and he lets me do anything I want. So far, so good. Last weekend we went to Indianapolis. We had a blast! This weekend, he says, “let’s go to Kentucky.” Why I don’t know, but we did anyway. The city of Louisville was dull, but they do have this really neat river walk thingy that was fun. We went to Joe’s Crab Shack, which Wolfe thought it said Joe’s Snack Shack, and he really didn’t want to stay, but I was dying for some crab! It was a mistake. Too expensive, and it wasn’t so great. We walked around for a few hours, took some pictures and we went to this park called “The Falls of Ohio” which was anything but beautiful. I’m sick of seeing rivers, my heart is crying for the ocean. Wolfe tells me that we can go to Salem, Massachusetts mid-August before I begin my fall semester. I made him read Arthur Miller’s The Crucible before we even discussed Salem. So he did, and loved the book, now we’ve been planning a trip. This has been my dream ever since grade school when I read the play and was convinced I was a witch and could put spells on people. (I was never very good; but, it terrified all the catholic school girls anyway so it was good for a laugh at the time). Tomorrow I will take Wolfe to the airport. He’s going home to Germany for two weeks. I’m going to miss him so much! My life has pathetically centered on Ken’s class, reading, Bob Evans, and Wolfe. Everything is so normal and ordinary it scares me. Every day the same as the last. I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening, Ma said she’d come see Michael Moore’s movie with me. I hope she can. I’ve been dying to see it! Plus, it will be great to spend some time with Ma. I miss her terribly…

24 June 2004

I hate today and I'd like to exchange for another one...
I feel so violated. Today, as Wolf and I strolled along the river, (well truthfully I was rollerblading and he was speed walking), some ass broke into the car and stole my precious Vera Bradley purse! I was so fucking pissed! We call the police, and searched along the banks of the river for hours. All I have found in a few scrapes and that I am allergic to whatever is by the river because my nose keeps running; but no purse! I lost my planner and now fell utterly lost without, the sterling silver Cross pen my mom gave me, along with a Vera Bradley wallet, with my driver's license, insurance cards, student i.d. etc...not to mention my favorite good luck charm. A jade stone with a bear in it that I have had since I was 17. Here's an important note: Jillian, please, please email me at londonkennedy31@excite.com. I lost your number which you had wanted to write down for me, but in my stubbornness I refused and wrote it in my planner, and now some crack head is walking around in style! So, email me with your digits so we can get together as planned! :)

23 June 2004

In memory of Dr. Kathy Burton
I have been trying to remember exactly what I was doing on Sunday morning. I know that at approximately 6am I eyed my alarm clock, only later at 10am to shut it off. I remember thinking that I needed to get up to re-read “Our Town” for my literature class, but sleep sounded better. The next day at 9am I received the call. I remember hearing the phone ring and I remember ignoring it; I remember my cats playing around the bed, and I remember someone cutting the grass outside. I don’t remember how I felt at 11am when I returned the phone call and heard the news about Kathy. I think I may have slipped away in this world I have created for myself when things get dreadful. I went to class that afternoon dazed and unprepared. I had to be the one to tell my friends about Kathy, because I knew they hadn’t heard. I remember not looking forward to that conversation.
At this point the main thing I feel is fear. Fear of forgetting. Fear of forgetting what her face looked liked. Fear of forgetting how she had that lazy eye that squinted more than the other—I think it may have been the right eye, but I don’t remember. Fear of forgetting what her hands looked like, or how she wore those tasseled shoes, or that black fur coat in the winter. And the thing that worries me the most is the future that will be filled with uncertainty this fall. I have the feeling that I will be irritated. I feel this because I know that her office will be empty, or even worse, occupied. Her office will become occupied by another professor who won’t know how many memories I share of that room. How many times I went to see Kathy, sat on the floor, griped about too much reading, not enough writing, reminding her if she had her keys, and lastly, flipping off the lights as we would leave. I staged our last encounter perfectly because I think subconsciously I knew I would never see her again. I gave her this poem I had written for her last summer when I heard about the cancer. I had gotten her address from a friend, but never mailed the letter. Later, towards the end of the fall semester, I heard she was coming back in the spring. I knew there was a reason I had never mailed the poem. Perhaps, I was saving it for the last visit. She smiled as she read it, and made muffled noises at the words. She hugged me and told me it meant so much to her. The last thing Kathy said to me will haunt me forever. We were in the elevator and I was bitching about going to Oxford. As the elevator doors opened, she commented, “oh, come on, you’re ready for Oxford. You can’t stay here forever.” I guess she was right in many ways. I am angry. I am angry because she said she’d be back in the fall. I’m angry because she said she’d be back, and I was to tell her about my first class in Oxford. I’m angry because I want to tell her how well I am doing there, and that I have made new friends, and how I am getting great grades on my quizzes, and the professor is awesome; but above all, I wanted to tell her how I can find not only the building by myself, but the room, too. She was supposed to hear all this. She promised. One friend said to me, people like Kathy Burton are not supposed to die. Then I remember how big of an influence Kathy has been for me, and for many students. She was the one who questioned my studying journalism. After that conversation I changed my major. She was the one who laughed those deep, stomach hurting laughs. The kind you only get with the type of people who have that amazing gift of genuine humor. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know anyone in her class, because she had a way of making the classroom a community. We would be laughing as if we were all childhood friends. Yup, you can say there was something about Kathy Burton.
First impressions are weighed heavily in American culture. I can remember the first day of class with Kathy. I remember that I was sure the girls in front of me were absolute idiots, and the boy by the window was a cutie. I remember learning that the boy by the window was an ass, and the girls became really good friends of mine that semester and we laughed over beer and pretzels at the corner bar about our first impressions of each other. My first impression of Kathy was the same as the last. She was Kathy. Funny, to-the-point, very private, and I wouldn’t have changed her for the world. I knew nothing about her personal life, and she knew nothing about mine. She was the first professor that I had a “normal” student/professor relationship with; and if you know me, you know that is hard for me to achieve. I look to many of my professors for parental guidance, friendships, anything but authority. Not with Kathy. I kept my distance. Ultimately, I feel I made the best decision because Kathy guided me academically. She never looked at my grades on paper, yet she still told me how intelligent I was. She pushed me along, refusing any help replying that I need to study and not worry about her. She always commented that she was “fine.” It was hard to hear this because I knew she was in pain. It was hard to watch her come to school after hours of being in the hospital for treatments, but yet, I knew this was where she belonged. In front of the class-- laughing; and I know that is when she will always be, because she has created in all of us humor and most important she has given us a new way to look at life. I know that since her death the trees seem a different color of green and tonight when there was a rainbow in the sky almost all Bob Evans employees were outside looking up and laughing. That was Kathy.

Madame Thalia
Comfortable midnight fur
To keep warm
A gift
Like a cunning cat
With smiling eyes
Strong like a cougar
Speaking words of Shakespeare’s King Lear
Standing tall
Such wisdom
Hands that show history
Of pages turning
Laughing at The Wife of Bath
Only you can envision her
Oh! To have such intelligence!
I envy your mind
Full of stanzas
And rhymes
Literature and professing describes you
(I feel)
Is not enough
But what more can I give you as your student?
Other than my words of praise
Through time
You have become my inspiration
Instructing me along my studies
Like Egeria
Drops of wisdom
Being sprinkled on your listeners
As you conduct
For years to come
And for the years that have already passed
Your students wait your knowledge

05 May 2004

18 June 2004

After spending the day with my one year old nephew, ten year old niece and thirty year old sister, I think I smoked almost a whole pack of cigarettes on the hour and a half drive home. It's not that I don't love them, I do; but I was really needing a smoke! My sister is an incredible woman. She is really good with her kids. There is no way in hell I could handle my nephew. He is the most active child I have ever seen! But, he's also the cutest little boy I've ever seen too! (Yes, I am bias). Work tonight was frustrating; I don't know maybe something is in the air. I was just really irritable and nervous. Tomorrow, I am going to be on my own I think. I am worried to take my own tables, but they assure me I am ready. If they only knew what was going on in my head. School is nearing an end (for my summer term one class) and I must admit, I will be sad. I may even tear up a bit. I really, really love my professor and the books we have been reading. I enjoy his teaching style. He is very active in lecture and makes the class fun. It's not very often that anyone skips class; we all want to be there, that is how great the class is. Wolf is a dear; I haven't told him about me and my "issues." I am a bit worried to, and if you know me personally, or have read this website in its entirety then you'll know what "issues" I am referring to. How do I tell him I am crazy? I mean how do you tell a person?
"Hey, by the way, I'm a little batty."
"Oh? How so?"
"Well, I have a shrink, take pills, it's under control, believe me."
"Check please."
This is how I imagine the scenario. Anyone have a different ending?

16 June 2004

When I was a little girl, one of the best moments in my childhood involved my big sissy. Tiffany had found this cat for me; a long haired, all white, two-year-old cat. I named her Duchess. I don’t know if that was her original name, or if I changed it in my selfishness, (probably the second choice knowing me)! Anyway, so I truly believed that my cat, Duchess, had magical, religious powers to heal me whenever I was sick, and with a mother like mine; I was sick all the damn time. So, Duchess would sleep in my bed with me during the nights when I had colds, ear infections, and so on. I loved this freaking cat so much; words would not even begin to explain. When she was hit by a car, I was in my teen years. I cried for days, and I couldn’t eat a thing. I swore up and down that I would never fall in love with a cat again. Now, I’m a mother of two cats! When I decided to change my blog colors and such (all Chris’s fault FYI), I found a new counter (thanks to Helen and Bravenet), a counter with a little white kitty, just like my Duchess.

14 June 2004

Hello everybody! How is ya?! I is fine! Ok, enough of that hillbilly bullshit...how is everyone doing these days? This weekend was pretty good for me. I haven't done much writing, but I did do a bit of research for a few poem ideas I have; (more on that later). Well, I saw my darling lil' Latasha on Saturday. She is looking great, and rolling in the dough with Philip Morris. (I hate her!) We just hung around the house and played with her mom's newest addition to the family...a little mitten-kitten called Gracelin. He is too cute for words! Then Saturday night I saw Wolf. He came to my very messy apartment, at which I was sure he would never talk to me again, but he called me this evening, so I'm still a prime candidate! We read some of my poems, and discussed photography. Yea, we are such dorks! But it is really nice to find someone in which I share common interests. Today, I worked the new job, and I think I am catching on at a good speed. I hope to be finished with training mid-week. That will be good since my tab is getting higher and higher at the corner carry-out store! Not to mention my bills are piling up! Ok, everyone remember to sign the guest map! Have a great Monday!

10 June 2004

FYI! Notice the new guest map!
I got this idea from the fabulous Helen! Everyone must go and do the freakin' guest map thing! You better, or else!!! Ha! PS I also added two "new to you" websites to go visit, & you better go visit those as well! I'm so productive today, it scares me! Help me, someone; before I get totally responsible! No, no that would never happen!!! I have way too much time on my hands, see what a day off does to a girl?!!

09 June 2004

This morning was a monumental achievement for me! I actually woke up before my four alarms! Go Me! Anyway, things are going well. I started the new job yesterday, and spent last night trying to memorize the menu. Fun, fun. I swore that when I started this thing, (the blog); I was going to write on it everyday. Yup, we've seen how that has turned out. But, I do enjoy writing when I can! I am currently working on a kick-ass poem, it's just not finished yet; but of course, I will need everyone's opinions when it is finished. Hope everything is good for everyone!

02 June 2004

The Matron
I’ve seen her eyes destroyed by fear
Starving for normality
Dragging worries through the stairway
Up to the nursery
Where the babe sleeps for seven hours if she’s lucky
And the wind blows through the mint green curtains
Whispering highs that never seem to calm
Nightmarish dizzy sounds float from the floorboards
Speaking of yesterday’s past
Where daddy would come
And suicide turns into a prayer
Because death seems better
Than living with a bug in your ear
That hums
And drums
Chanting the wrong answers
Life resides in the walls
That cries along with you
As the room spins
Becoming addictive day after day
While they all sleep
Not knowing what is happening
I do.

The Maid
What is this snake that wraps around your dreams?
Hissing unhelpful secrets
Books become useless
Their voices only a bother
Pens are only good for making scars
That will remind you of the classroom
Where the seats are hard to sit in
And the teacher goes la, la, la
While they all point and stare and your old tennis shoes
Who cares about the shoelaces that are worn?
Universities will even judge your image
And your paperwork that holds you to be only a number
Only a waste of time
Taking up desk space
That could be used by elite BMW drivers
That throws plastic cards out the window for Starbuck’s coffee
With extra whipped cream
Grande please they giggle
As they drive off with the sunset following behind

01 June 2004

Happy June!!! Enjoy the sunshine!!

Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com