Paper Tiger

Fuck. Shit. Fuckitty. Fuck. Fuck. Shit.

When you realize that you might miss your flight because of you not realizing the direction of the public transport.

And all of a sudden your eyes swell up behind your sunglasses; while on the verge of tears you try to breathe.

Everything hits you and you start thinking about your lonesome last day here. How everyone is paired off, or has great jobs, or is missed by someone, or will never be forgotten by someone.

And you realize you are none of these things. That no one has ever told you they will always remember you, that you are such an amazing person, they can’t stop smiling when they are with you.

You realize that if you miss this flight, not only will your mother shout at you for being irresponsible; but that you will have to call in “sick” to work tomorrow to get on another flight. And you only have one more “sick” day for the year, before they start taking your vacation hours (if you have them or not).

You realize that everyone’s happiness is all you long to experience in your life. you try to think of the last time you cries in front of someone- over a year. It’s because no one wants you to cry in front of them- that is what you tell yourself. But no one is ever around, or is it that there is no one you are comfortable enough in front of in life to present yourself as that vulnerable.

You haven’t eaten since yesterday and that you aren’t even hungry anymore. Masochistically you wonder how long you could go before our next meal. Then you plan the Thai/Indian/Chinese gorge feast you will order once you return to the comfort of your home.

It’s not even panic, but somehow just simply the act of you making a stupid directional mistake can change the course of your life; not jut the 40 +mins it took to get back on course.

You again start to wonder if the once close friends, people you’ve never met, people you’ve only met for a night still have a little Katia memory that runs through their mind, that makes them smile.

You are alone, and you are just so tired of doing everything on your own. Of distance and proximity being the factor of how close people get.

All you ask is that maybe sometime people think of you, possibly never forget you, and one day one lucky heart to love yours back.

But for now, you just hope you make your flight.

Seriously Jeff Buckley,

It’s 3:25 am, and NOW you want to tell me “Lover, you should’ve come over.” ? No, but really, come on, Buckley! 

This pretty much bring us up to date:

• a stolen chicken wing started a cat fight

• there were tears

• there were sriracha cheese curds

• a guy asked me if I was having a boy or a girl - guys, the fuck makes you think you can ask a girl you don’t know that? I’m not even that fat a girl!

• people got laid

• I pulled a Ted Mosby

• there was town car

• there were rappers

Who needs a drink?

i almost text you tonight.

i didn’t.

too long since i last did. without response from you.

much longer since we last did speak.

my vision gazes to my phone.

you’re not thinking the same as me.

as we once did.

don’t we all?

instead, we fall into this late night path.

the same path we had.

once.

it’s been much too long.

but as much as you are up, i am too. 

Whispery Post: Legend Recognize Legend

I just emailed Ghostface Killah’s personal publicist.

I. Just. Emailed. Ghostface Killah’s. Personal. Publicist.

Holy. Shit. This weekend I’m gonna be hustling harder than ever. Be proud, self. Be proud.

• I really miss Hell on Wheels and Sons of Anarchy.
• I got into a fight with my mother about my brothers wedding, also about quitting my horrible day job.
• I wish someone was here to drink this red wine with me.
• I have to pack, submit requests, and do stuff but I want to cuddle with Sir in his bow-tie and watch Netflix.
• I’d like to hold hands. 

✈

I find it to be true that any circumstance in our lives where our friends put pressure on us to succeed we fumble & sometimes fail. This is true in jobs, love, making the best pie. Once the pressure is gone, once no one else needs answers, we are free to just enjoy life.

Certainly our friends just want the best for us. They want to see us happy. They also love to give advice on HOW you should do things. But what works for one person will not work for another. Ever. Ever single experience we have is our separate individual experience. Sometimes I wish people would wait to give advice until they are asked. Some people just like to tell you what to do.

Sometimes, like now you just keep it to yourself. You hold that news, that moment, that happiness close in your heart.

You hit play on RAC’s remix of Temper Tramp’s “Sweet Disposition”, and enjoy the sun. Enjoying life, that’s what’s important right now.

On Dat Endorphin Rush:

I don’t know if it’s waking up at 4:45am, or the hills/push ups combo in spin class this morning, or my black lace mini dress; but no one on the corner has swagger like me today.

I’m feeling damn sexy.

On breaking up in New York City:

I was pleasantly surprised to find out my friend,Tim of… Offta 6 years was in town from NYC this weekend. It wasn’t until brunch on Sunday I learned the reason for his spur of the moment visit.

Tim told me how things with him and Josie had gotten rotten. They shared the same friends, which Josie held captive post breakup. So after I asked the first most important post breakup question, “Whiskey or Tequila?”

We set the nimble shot glasses on the bar and I asked the second most important question after a New York City breakup; “Who got to keep the apartment?”

“Oh, I did.” Tim said happily.

Because when you have a great apartment in the East Village and your upstairs neighbors are Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz…keeping the apartment is what’s important in a New York City breakup.

like a sweater

we become attached to people, to the memories they give us. this is called friendship; a relationship. you bond like gum, to the sole of a sneaker with another person. you become part of that person, and they you. 

like that sweater in your closet; the one that has seen you through break-ups, drunk nights, sickness, and of course health. we change addresses, we evolve in our hairstyles, we stop wearing pants. but we’ve always got that sweater. that sweater we push out of the way the hoodies to get to. 

that sweater can be a safety net. it can be an honest answer. 

as you get older, as your life evolves so does that of the sweater. the zipper starts to stick. a button falls off on the train tracks. you’ve sewed on new buttons, you’ve replaced the string in the hood. it’s become a patchwork sweater. when you’re younger it’s easier to go back to it. to forgive it for it’s mishaps, and sometimes cruelty.

when you get older you just can’t. sometimes you just can’t. can’t keep it anymore. like a sweater, sometimes we grow out of people. and they grow out of us. sometimes, you just can’t fight the good fight anymore. you realize you just can’t have it around anymore. 

you just hope you’re not the first one to say it.