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Wow, the post before this was really negative. I shouldn't surf before coffee. It's bad. You know, I wish switching back and forth from weblog to single entry style worked better. Some days you want to come back. I should've left it in weblog format, I guess. For some reason, the single page seemed lacking in some excitement. It was more functional, though. Silly me. Why must there be allergies? I have to wonder. Y'know, I'm really not a serious bitch. I'm just opinionated. Some days, I'm not even that. Let's all go live in a big field of flowers and listen to John Lennon songs. "Imagine" was totally unappreciated in its time. It still is. Miss ya, John. When did my total hawklike tendencies start greying into dove? Maybe it's Southern California leaching into my brain. Or leeching. One could consider Southern California a gigantic parasite. One frequently does... Or it could be age. I suppose it could be a natural extension of the growing older process. One has to wonder. Maybe you really do get more and more angry as you age, until when I am 80, I will be this hyper-crabby old woman that even the cats avoid. Hm. There's a thought. Not a very good one, but a thought nonetheless. Maybe it's just that at this stage in my life, I'm really tired of being pushed around by other people, so I've decided to start loudly venting about the whole situation. I do know I wish I were mouthier when I was 16, instead of letting people push me around all the time and be shits to me. When I was 17, I went to the State 4H Competition. I was your quintessential good girl, totally quiet and shy. But I was at State, and my friend Jimmy comes into my room one early evening just before we went to dinner. Jimmy lived in another small town in Texas, hundreds of miles from me, so we never got to hang, and I had a crush on him from the summer before, so I was pretty psyched to be going to dinner with the guy. So anyway, we went up to my room to get my purse or something, and Linda the Bitch Davis was in there too with two other girls and her cousin, my roommate Deanne. We were in the room all of maybe 3 minutes and then went to dinner. Next thing I know, Floyd Key, County Extension Agent, or whatever his overgrown title was, heads me off and tells me he hears I had a boy in my room the night before and that I can not behave like a little trollop and still represent my county, and that if I insist on behaving in such a sinful and shameful fashion, he's gonna pack my ass on a bus for home. Only he didn't say ass, because that would have been impolite. Well, I was flabbergasted, but my first instinct was to panic, and then to freak out, and then to cry. I said there were other girls there too, and that we'd only been there for a minute or two while I got my stuff, but he said that's not what he was told, and that I was behaving immorally, etc. What I wish I had said was "Hold up, asshole, there were other people there and I don't have to take this crap, and why don't we go call my mom right now, because I happen to know you and half the people in this organization are afraid of the banshee powerhouse bitch that is my mom, so we can tell this little song and dance to her and see what she has to say, you sanctimonious prick." That's what I'd say now. But back then I turned into a blubbering wimp, and some other stuff happened directly after, regarding Linda and her fucking mother, and I got my ass kicked because I didn't stand up for myself. When I think back on those years now, they seem rather a cruel joke. Life pretty much bloodies your nose from Day 1, doesn't it? You should be born knowing how to deal with it. Or at least your parents should say look, life is gonna come at you with a buncha low-down shit. When that happens, tuck your chin in and lead with your right, coz it's only gonna get hairy from there. Then at least you'd know you're allowed to stick up for yourself. Oh well. Enough with the depressing. Let's go with the happy. Time for The List.
Top 10 Best Things in the World:
"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." Bob & weave, baby. Peace out. Katie copyright 2002
- 2005 Katie Doyle; all rights reserved
In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
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Katie's Pals
L'ours
Pete Other Stuff Katie Digs
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