kate+speaks

I think I am tired of complaining. I know people are tired of hearing me complain.

Wah wah wah. I still feel like crap 40% of the time. The glass is still (more than) half full.

I complained to my mom about how my hair looks like crap and I can’t even pay for some proper grooming. She then asked how much I pay for my hair-done-ness, I told her “A LOT!” She then proceeded to tell me “thats why I just go to the Asian salon and get my $15 haircuts,” I rebutted with “they chop your hair up though!”

I’m my mom’s biggest critic, she always gets her hair hacked, complains “they didn’t know what they were doing, I’m so pissed” and yet insists that her cheapo haircuts are worth the dollars she pays for them.

Ohh mom, I love you like crazy.

I’m not gonna lie.

It was REAL NICE to have money, for the whole minute that I had some… Not for materialistic purposes, but for the pure joy of saying “I GOT THIS.” I get a natural high of taking care of other people—as long as my bank account allows me to do so. I have no problem sharing any “wealth” I have. I’d love to all buy you rounds of drinks, bring you breakfast without you even asking, or footing a large chunk of any bill we have to share. I was brought up with very generous parents and my future in-laws are the same way. As long as you can love and appreciate this aspect about me, I have no problems, and as long as people love and appreciate me enough to do the same—I have done nothing in vain.

I hate that I have no money. I hate that I can’t pay for anything. I hate that I can’t repay the man for anything. I hate that “IOU” is such a common thing for me these days. UGH. Its so frustrating.

It seems like every other week I (or Jeff… or my parents…) have to pick myself out of the gutter, brush myself off and tell everyone that its going to be ok.

Eventually…. (sooner than later though, please?)

Damn you Vivienne Westwood! Why did you create a dress I will never have?

Today I applied for a retail job.

I listed my design job history and my bachelors degree.

I feel like I got cut in the stomach. Its not like I’m too proud to get this job, I just feel that its sort of unnecessary. Not that a bachelors degree makes me high and mighty, I’m just saying… JUST HIRE ME. DONE.

BK

On really lazy/fat kid days I go buy a jr. whopper (no mayo) and value fries at BK. Today I pulled my jr. whopper out of the bag and found this:

The smallest hamburger ever created. If you didn’t know, I have the hands of a five year old.

I guess this is a better move for America, smaller portions? I guess its really that small for BK profitablilty.

Real life happenings: At Jeff’s youngest cousin’s first birthday, last night, surrounded by children.

I asked what cartoon was on tv. Then I got asked by a six year old how old I was. I responded honestly, but with a stutter, “Uhh 25.” He then replied: “You’re too old, this is a whole different thing, you have to be like 16.” I totally butchered what he said, but it was along those lines.

Eww. Whatever though. I can buy liquor, stay out past 11pm, and I don’t live with my mommy and daddy. SO THERE.

Once again… cash rules everything around me.

And I have none.

Time to go apply at Walgreens. No shame I guess, everyone’s gotta hustle sooner or later, degree or not, this economy leaves me no opportunities.

Someday I hope to be paid in full.

W.T.F.

Earlier tonight I went to a gallery reception, walked 10 feet, then thought “WTF is this? This hipster shit is not art. Damn hipsters.”

I swear I have a broad view of what constitutes as art. I have no idea why hipsters think they can draw scribbles, color them in, and then ask for $75 for what looks like a load of shit. Also, just because they take photos of random things at odd angles does not make it art, that doesn’t make them photographers.

Ehh. I guess I see what they are trying to achieve, but they really suck at it. Not trying to compare, but Jeff and I could do what they do in a minute and not even try.

False artists and poser photographers need to seek some real inspiration or something…

Pick me up

Outstanding – The Gap Band

I wonder how old my soul really is.