Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Afterthought

By the way, I almost forgot that you slept with my ex-boyfriend.

Good riddance.

Love,
Katie

Thursday, March 18, 2010

I Don't Care

No really, I don't.

Never mind the years of friendship and the last few of watching you fake it.

Never mind letting you cry onto my shoulder in the mornings before high school because your parents told you that you were fat.

Never mind not calling me at the moment you needed me most and favoring other "friends" instead, none of which you are friends with anymore.

Never mind all the times I went with you to buy pregnancy tests because you'd been sleeping with several guys and thought you were pregnant.

Never mind the carefully thought out birthday presents while you gave me used magazines and pop-up books about DOLLS THAT COME TO LIFE!!!! Dolls. That are alive. MOTHERFUCKINGDOLLS! The stuff of my nightmares. You obviously know me well after 10 years, eh?

Never mind my texts that never get answered until hours, sometimes days later.

Never mind that I got up at four in the morning (God doesn't get up that early!) and got on a bus with my crabby boyfriend and sat in front of these idiots for five hours to come and see you and that you couldn't be bothered to meet us at the station.

Never mind that we carried our luggage around with us for two hours in a city we weren't familiar with waiting for you.

Never mind that you couldn't take this one weekend off from seeing your repulsive-cheating-scumbag-asshole boyfriend to see your "best friend" and planned the entire night around him including changing the dinner reservations to 10:15 PM (which is 11:15 PM Michigan time) when we had been up since 4:00 AM (which is 3:00 AM Illinois time) and were too exhausted to go and slept on the futon instead.

Never mind that I comforted you on the L Train because RCSA boyfriend was making you cry.

Never mind you didn't bother making the floor clear enough to walk over in the five weeks that you knew we would be coming. Or that you didn't bother to have water for us to drink or towels out for us to use in the shower.

Never mind that you came home at 2:00 AM with your RCSA boyfriend "whispering" in the bed next to my head while I slept. I threw your cat at him when he ran across my face WITH HIS CLAWS.

Never mind that you couldn't walk us to the station when we left. You said you would be going in that direction, but you wanted to sleep until noon.

Never mind that I spent that night texting you trying to get you to see that you're worth more than that useless scumbag liar and then you didn't talk to me again for another month and a half.

Never mind you've been in town for two days and didn't tell me and I had to find out from your mom's Facebook and now you can't spare one fucking hour to get Starbucks with me, especially since I can't even AFFORD Starbucks right now.

Never mind that I have been the best friend that I could be to you for 10 FUCKING YEARS and you have given me less than nothing in return. Less than nothing.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. Care. Care if it's old. I don't mind. I don't mind. I don't mind. Mind. I don't have a mind.

Love,
Katie

Thursday, March 11, 2010

A Day In The Life

5:30 AM - Alarm goes off. Hit snooze until 6:30.

6:30 AM - Grudgingly roll out of bed and curse yourself for not getting up sooner. Grab towels and shuffle towards the bathroom for a shower.

6:31 AM - Shuffle back to bedroom. Mom is in shower. Check email until she gets out.

6:40 AM - Shuffle back to bathroom and take a shower. Refrain from using face scrub because lady at Sally Beauty Supply said to only use it at night. Drop everything in the shower at least once. Swear.

6:47 AM - Towel off and apply various creams/pomades to wet hair and wrap towel around head. Brush teeth and get mad every time the towel falls off due to the gravity of leaning over a sink.

6:50 AM - Start getting dressed and end up hating the outfit laid out the night before. Change everything.

7:00 AM - Apply makeup and argue with sister trying to get in the bathroom. Call her a Nazi. Speak German to her.

7:03 AM - Leave house in flip flops and start car. Realize there's no gas because it was too cold last night after class to stop at a gas station. Swear. Drive to gas station and get gas as well as breakfast. Be classy.

7:23 AM - Arrive at work. Spend five minutes looking for a parking space. Spend the next 10 minutes walking the half mile from the parking space to the building. No exaggeration.

7:40 AM - Walk into office la te. Curse parking lot. Wonder when parking structure will be done.

Work. Change Facebook status periodically. Tweet when something amusing happens or when boredom strikes.

3:30 PM - Wander back to car parked in BFE.

3:46 PM - Arrive at car. Get in and wait in line for 10 minutes to get out of the gate. Stop at home to change and eat dinner.

4:42 PM - Leave for school. Worry about being late the entire way there. Speed.

5:14 PM - Arrive at school an hour early. Go to bathroom. Waste time. Go to class and sit in the dark Facebooking on netbook until someone turns on the light. Facebook in the light until class.

6:15 PM - Professor arrives five minutes late. Class starts. Sit through class. Fear the TA and her crazy eyes. Imagine her turning the class to stone. Type everything professor says verbatim. Get midterm back. Be disappointed in your B-.

9:00 PM - Leave class. Book it to the car because the parking lot is dark and full of terrible drivers. Speed home.

9:26 PM - Arrive home. Mom says boyfriend called. Talked to him for several minutes about enema he had to give autistic person in group home he works in. Make fun of bleach blonde goatee thing brother is attempting to grow. Tell him it makes him look like Hulk Hogan. Tell orange fluffy cat that bears resemblance to Wilford Brimley at the time that he "don't know 'bout mah Diabeetus." Laugh at own joke. Make and eat corned beef sandwich in front of "vegetarian" sister. Moan at deliciousness as she ogles and talks about how good it looks. Laugh as she gives herself a pep talk: "They're so mean to the chickens! You've done this for two weeks, Kelly. If you do this, you can do anything!" Laugh when brother tells her that they throw the chickens because it tenderizes them and makes them delicious and then leaves to get McNuggets. Page phone and realize mom is sitting on it. Call boyfriend. Wander upstairs to bed.

10:26 PM - Finally get off phone because boyfriend has to change adult diapers before getting off work. Stay up until he calls back.

10:27 PM - Fall asleep.

10:55 PM - Wake up because phone is ringing under pillow. Talk groggily for three minutes. Hang up and fall asleep. Have nightmare about a doll.

Love,
Katie

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

I'd Rather Laugh With The Sinners

I am not an atheist. I'm not. I don't think this is it for me. I don't think we get just this one chance and I don't think it's all for nothing. I believe in God. I love people.

But oh I despise organized Christian religions.

I despise them for their hatred and ridicule of gays. For their opposition to letting me do with my own body what I want to. For their protesting outside the WomenCare center in my neighborhood and harassing girls and women that are already scared and upset and facing an extremely difficult and heartbreaking decision. For their ridiculous, backward and often contradictory "morals." For their manipulation of young minds to inherit this disgusting hate. For their corruption and their bastardization of The Bible from a guide of morality and friendship and love, to a Constitution of Insanity that they use to justify their hatred. For their complete disregard and ignorance of observed, proven, scientific FACTS. For their attempt to control people and change people so that everyone is just like them in the form of missionaries. For their appalling collection of money to propel themselves further. For their oppression and rules and restrictions on why I cannot enjoy the life that God gave me the way that makes me happy and doesn't hurt anyone else. For their refusal of birth control that causes teenage girls, mere babies themselves, to be mothers. For their refusal of medical care for their sick children.

I've seen my despicable Catholic neighbors knock my brother's teeth out with a metal baseball bat, and still be superior to us because they go to church on Sunday and God forgave them.

I've seen the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (better known as Mormons) steal my parents' money and monitor their lives to make sure they weren't drinking coffee or wearing regular undergarments.

I've seen a woman marry the man she loves and the father of her child and be exiled because the man is black and her son is half and half, his grandparents unwilling to touch him.

I've seen the dark side of Christian religion. The intangible ideals that make me sick. And the people who are "good" because they are "saved" while I sit here, a Godless heathen, going to Hell for loving others as Jesus did and not judging them for being gay, or drinking alcohol on occasion or having an abortion because they can't afford to start a family at 16.

So you know what? I will love those people anyway.

I will love you even though I don't go to church.

I will love you even though I take birth control.

I will love you even though I buy my underwear at Target and not a temple.

I will love you even though I think it's okay to have an abortion if you need to.

I will love you even though I believe in modern medicine.

I will love you even though I drink a goddamn Coca Cola and GASP! a glass of wine every now and then.

I will love you even though I take the name of God in vain.

And I will see you in Heaven.

Love,
Katie

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Chicago Trips by Kels (Via Text)

"How's your trip?"

"It's fine. I got you a present."

"Oh joy! Did you see the babies in the tubes*? That's my favorite thing about Chicago."

"Yeah, we did."

"*Jealous*"

Love,
Katie

*Kels is referring to a portion of the Museum of Science and Industry about the birth process where they have actual stillborn specimens encased in glass to show the different stages of fetus development. It gives me the willies and makes me cry (especially because I left my birth control at home and have been a weepy mess since Friday). My sister is morbid.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The One Where I'm a Douche Bag

Last night I yelled at my boyfriend. I know, right? That like, totally never happens.

Moving on.
So, I yelled at him. Because it was late and I was tired and I had gotten home and realized that he'd deleted the background on my phone because he thought it was a bad picture. And now my phone is blank.

Then, I fell asleep while I was talking to him, never quite resolving the issue entirely.

But then, I got in to work this morning and opened my email:

Subject: sorry about deleting the picture

Message: At least you still have these. The one where I look retarded is the most awful picture I've ever taken btw.

Attachments:

Yep.
Love,
Katie

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

How to Demonstrate Your Stupidity With Only Your Vehicle

1. Affix a Jesus fish to the outside.
This will not only show me that you are an over-judgemental prick, but an over-judgemental prick that needs attention. Look at me, everyone! I'm Christian! That makes me a good person!

2. Cover your car in bumper stickers.
I don't care if you voted McCain/Palin 2009 or that you're only driving fast because you have to poop or that you like Insane Clown Posse. Save it for your E-Harmony profile.

3. Install stupid rims.
If they spin or are bigger than the tires themselves, save your money to spend on an unnecessarily loud speaker system.

4. Paint it an unnatural color.
Fact: 4 out of 5 car accidents are caused by temporary blindness incurred by chameleon coated vehicles. Guns don't kill people. Ugly cars kill people.

5. Drive a Hummer.
Nothing says "Douchebag" like a vehicle modeled after military equipment that uses more fuel than a private jet. Plus, if one more girl in a burqua driving one of these monstrosities tries to run me over in the parking lot at school, I'm going to scream.


6. Drive a Smart Car.
Good for the environment? Sure! Good for the driver? Uh....not so much.



7. Drive a Toyota.

33 miles per gallon and a probable death guarantee!

Love,
Katie