Oh the cruelness

of wanting to be intimate when it seems the other person could care less.
I always thought guy’s thought about sex with one body part. Buuuut, I guess not.

day two of pedometer tracking: 13,834
(I always knew I was pretty active, but this is slowly proving it. I thought 10,000 would a stretch, but this is day 2 of overstepping my goals, haha.)
Can’t wait to shoot sometime soon! I’ve been slacking in that department recently. Photographers must message me back when I contact them! hmph!

I’m tired. and in need of some lovin’

_K.V._

shame on me

for not updating as I should.

What’s new?

I got an A- in Creative Writing, god knows how many absences I should have recieved! (i never really missed a class, but was always late, and 2/3 lates = 1 abscence)

made dean’s list again, for the spring semester. I don’t think my parents know or care.

I want to have sex.

I am now 20. and it’s pretty awkward. I can’t do childish things (though there is little to stop me) and I can’t quite do adult things, because I’m not legal enough, like this past weekend for example — I went to Atlantic City with a ton of my coworkers for a business convention and it was fun as hell, but could I gamble? Nope. Drink? Nope.
I wasn’t exactly dying to wet my lips with some alcohol though, I had already eaten badly enough as it was this past weekend, visiting baskin robbins between 4-7  for their 3 scopps for $3, for 3 hours promo. Quite good. Got mint chocolate chip, coffee, and vanilla frozen yogurt. The frozen yogurt wasn’t that great though. I’ll leave it up to wildberry or red mango when I want my fix.

Today I hung out in Union Square all day and sat in Starbucks (after finding there were no seats in the square) and studied for my state examination. That went okay, but soon enough, i had to pee and packed my bags, not even trying to order another cup of Pike’s Place just so I could sit in the cafe area.
After that, I walked to Strand to see what $1 books would catch my eye, and there were two: one by michael moore which I’d seen at B&N for something around 20 bucks and another one about Russians and the Arctic. After about an hour of craning my neck to read the vertical titles on the bookshelves for about an hour or so, I got tired and bought neither book. Maybe I’ll change my mind tomorrow and check if they’re still there.

Today I cheated my mother out of money for a metrocard and told her that it was 3 bucks more than it actually was, because even though I do need to make up for this past weekend, I am never one to starve myself and I didn’t want to go to Cosi on my dollar (their fire roasted veggie sandwich — all I’ve eaten there so far, is to die for, but it’s 8 bucks a sandwich and is significantly smaller than Subway’s five-dollar-footlong) BUTTTT, I found something better at the farmer’s market and was suddenly glad that I didn’t buy those two books — allowing me to purchase basil, sun-dried tomato, artichokes, ricotta, and goat cheese on toasted ciabatta. (YUM!)

I bought it (for $3.75, yay for bargains) and intended to share some with my best friend and his father but my friend ended up having other plans (boo!) leaving me and my yummy-ass ciabatta alone for some one on one time. The rest of it is sitting in my fridge, but I think it will accompany me to school tomorrow while I drop off a paper for my professor. I also bought some hand-made pretzels….I LOVEEEEEEEEEE a good pretzel, and boy, these are good. 1 buck for 3…not bad at all, I’d say.

But I must go forward what some might call ’scantily clad’ pictures of myself to a photographer in hopes that he will want to work with me. I swear he’s not a creepo!!

I’m out!

Oh, and I got my second notice for jury duty after having postponed it the first time. I have it a few weeks before school, so it seems that timing worked out just like I wanted it to.

ciao!

_K.V._

P.S. I found my long lost pedometer and so at least until my photoshoot comes up, I will be recording the number of steps I take per day.

Day One: ~ 10,080… I say ~ because I have to walk back to my room. haha but im glad I surpassed 10,000. Lets hope that I can do the same for most if not all  of this week!

Cheering people up

is a lot harder to do when you are really close with the person who needs your help. If your primary attempts at stitching closed the issue don’t work, then there’s even more pressure on you to make things right again. And god forbid you don’t help, or worse: make things even worse than they already are.

there is so much pressure when someone needs you to make them happy. when you’re the only one who fits the job description, you’re the only one who can get fired. it sucks.

—-

On another note, I have pretty much finished the first official fourth draft of my fiction piece, “Outside”. I love it. Let some time fly by, and I might hate it. No matter what though, I love my character. He’s awesome. I think I’ll meet the physical embodiment of Spencer Callahan somewhere, someday. Maybe in Grand Central Station, or Starbucks. Who knows? I’m rather excited to see how it’s reception will fare. My class has read my first draft, which is really my own personal third draft of the piece.I swear I have so many copies of “Outside” that you would think I was writing a ‘choose your own ending’ book (which happen to be pretty fun as heck).

Well I’m off to eat some vanilla ice cream…again. Shh!

Seven Minutes

before class.

I wonder what I will write about this time.

So far in Creative Writing, all I can seem to write about is  my parent’s oppression.

I need something else to talk about, I’m sure my class is tired of hearing about some pissed off nineteen-year-old girl talk about her sixty-four-year-old parents.

enough is enough.

Then again, when asked to write memoir, all I can seem to remember or describe really well is the unfortunate dynamic that exists in my unfortunate family with its unfortunate family members.

How unfortunate.

Only You Can Tell Yourself ‘No’

All my life my parents have said no. no. no.
No this, no that.  It went from…
No walking barefoot in the house. No reading in the dark.
No sleeping over your best friends house (even though you’ve known her for 15 years).

all the way to…
No hanging out afterschool(in middle school, and high school, AND college). No rock music. No marchingband.

and even then….
I’m not going to your high school graduation.

but worse…
I’m not paying for college (after i promised you I would), you can just hang around.

fuck that.

Why? Because just the other day she did it again. “I’m not paying for your summer classes.”
What kind of parent does that to their child? She promised. This is the second time she’s done this, the first time was senior year of high school. I wasn’t too excited about Hunter, but I was satisfied and had accepted the fact that I really couldn’t afford Sarah Lawrence and Eugene Lang said no. I was depressed for months. “We’re not paying for school, we’re not signing loans, we’re not going with you to school to straighten this out.”

Apparently it seemed I was making a bigger deal out of my own education than my own parents, who now sometimes brag about what good grades their daughter has been getting in her classes. There is nothing I can’t stand more. Well perhaps one thing. If not paying for school was the most illogical and careless ‘No’, then this one had to be the coldest and heartless of them all: “No, I’m not gonna kick your brother out.” Perhaps I could go into detail in another post, but if I had somewhere to go after hearing those words, I surely would have run away from home–and her thoughts on this delicate matter were so unwelcoming, I won’t ever forget the feeling.

Now, however….

I always walk barefoot in the house. But I like wearing socks. My mom yells at me frequently for this. I have great eyesight, I can read in the dark though now, its usually in front of the computer screen. I’ve crashed at my friends house for week long periods, getting in at 2AM, and appreciating every second.

Now, I’m never really home. I get home at the end of a 27-hour day. I never feel like being home, so I find things to do with my time to assure that I am not not around. Rock music…heh, she hates when I play it, so I play it louder. Marchingband,… had some of my most fun highschool memories in the Band.

My boyfriend at the time and his sister came to my graduation. It was awesome, we went to some really cool yummy spanish place to eat afterward with good portions, too.

And..my dad paid for my freshman year. This summer looks like its going to be paid off by money given to me by my current boyfriend’s grandmother in exchange for helping her with her work. I am lucky.

Every time my parents say no to something, I feel like there are things being unsaid on their parts afterward. Sometimes I feel they say no to spite me. But I’m done with that. The only person that can deny me of anything is myself. At least that’s the way it should be. I’m tired of having to satisfy unrealistic prototypes of the perfect daughter. You can’t squeeze a human’s soul into a robot the way you can squeeze the juice out a lime unless you want that person to end up just as sour. You just can’t.

Besides this, saying no…makes me want things more — and I’ll be damned if I don’t get them. The only thing that should hold me back is myself– my fears, my uncertainty, and indecision…but I should also be the one to triumph,and if it all works out, then I will, and the next ‘no’ will turn into a ‘yes’ that much more easily.
_K.V._

six word memoir

Today summer classes began. I had my first one, Creative Writing.
My professor is pretty cool, no text for the course, participation is the biggest chunk of the grade, and she’s young and funny.

She made us write a ‘6-word memoir’ which is modeled after something published in the New York Times about a year ago. She handed out a sheet with serveral of these submissions by famous people and my favorites were:

• Fearlessness is the mother of reinvention — Arianna Huffington
• Well, I thought it was funny — Stephen Colbert
• Eight thousand orgasms, only one baby — Neal Pollack
• I write because I can’t sleep — Ben Mezrich
• Nobody cared, then they did. Why? –Chuck Klosterman

After reading and discussing these, she asked us to write our own six word memoirs. I thought this was going to be a lot harder than I thought, but mine just kinda popped into my head in a matter of seconds. I just rephrased it to be 6 words and the result is: Only You Can Tell Yourself ‘No‘.

&& why is this my six word memoir? I’ll post it all tomorrow, I should be going to sleep now, I have class at 8am tomorrow! :X

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Burnt Pancake

About twenty mintues ago I was making breakfast.
Pancakes.
I had the heat on too high.
Mom says she smells something.
I’m too busy on the laptop to care about the fact that
I know it’s my pancake she’s talking
about.
My sister’s home attendant is nice enough to flip it for me– and I look over
Into the dark side of the full moon that is my
pancake.
A second later the other side is charcoal-ed
I sprinkle some cinnamon over it, get a knife to fight the tough-ness
and indulge.
Slightly crunchy on the outside,
warm, soft and bread-like on the inside.
I’ve just remembered how good it tastes to neglect
your breakfast.

[Don't know why the hell I wrote this out like a poem....Ah well.]
I wonder if you can order ‘burnt pancakes’ at ihop. that would be spectacular.

All this talk about pancakes reminds me of this show my father and I were watching about two days ago on the travel channel..feast your eyes my friends: http://www.travelchannel.com/Travel_Ideas/Food_and_Wine/ci.Extreme_Pig_Outs.artTravelIdeasFmt?vgnextfmt=artTravelIdeasFmt

I will try to find the episode that features these places, just reading about it will NOT do.

Heart Attack Grill

Amazing Amazon

…mother says she will fund my tuition for the summer. Found my textbook online for 2 bucks — though it retails at 85. Now I finally have the option to pick Creative Writing as a major as opposed to practically being forced not to, unless I want to graduate a million years late. Got my first A in my classes.

…sister got sick on memorial day, rushed to emergency room for the second time. Had a final the next day but stayed in emergency room from 6:30pm-2am. Woke up at 6am for my final. Now I think I am sick — I keep coughing, and am too lazy to do much. bought my fall semester textbook for intermediate Japanese…have to learn double the kanji per chapter, so now it’s 30 characters a chapter v.s. 15. My jeans are getting tighter, right before bathing suit season. Right eyelid has a twitch. Annoying much?

and just like the summer,

…i’m back.

kazvam ce.....

kuche.

…hello world.