Monster Bloooooood!!!!

In honor of Halloween I am going to highlight and give a brief synopsis of my favorite Goosebumps book. I used to have like 100 of those books and now have no idea where any of them are--so sad.



This story revolves around a kid named Evan who I assume is around 12 or something. For some reason (maybe he is visiting for the summer?) he goes to stay with his great aunt, whose name I don't remember. She is crazy according to Evan, although I don't remember on what grounds her craziness is justified. Let's say for the sake of me making shit up that she is a part-time fortune teller.

So Evan is soooo bored because he is in this hicktown with no friends for an extended period of time. To alleviate his boredom he goes to a junk shop to look at stuff and finds a dusty can with the words "Monster Blood" on it. I like to think that "Monster Blood" was written in spooky font, and the can was all rusty.

At some point he meets a girl named Andy and they become friends. Maybe it was at the store? I'm just pretty certain that she is there when he first opens the Monster Blood.

So they go home and open the Monster Blood and the shit hits the fan. It starts growing out of control and eats everything in its path. And get this--not only does IT grow out of control, but if you happen to ingest it (like Evan's dog does), YOU grow out of control too! Evan is suspicious that his aunt is a witch because it only starts growing after she handles it.

THEN, the Monster Blood gets so big that it leaves the house and starts rampaging the neighborhood, sucking up cars and people and pets and houses and everything that it slimes across. So as the reader, you're all like "ahhhhh, what are they going to do!?!?"

Well, out of nowhere, it turns out that the aunt's cat is a witch in disguise (what?) who is controlling the Monster Blood, so just when you think that all hope is lost and Evan and Andy (as well as the rest of the world) are doomed, it turns on her and sucks her up and kills her (?) I guess. So after the witch is gone, it shrinks back down to nothing and release all of the people and shit that it ate and everything is fine. And Evans dog is normal size again too.

There was probably a twist ending, because there always is in these books. However, I don't remember what it was. Okay, Happy Halloween!

i'm nostalgic today, just ignore me

For reasons unknown I think I am falling in love with JLC again. Like the same way I did my junior year of high school. Maybe it's the fact that I will for the rest of my life associate this time of year in Charleston with their Dockstreet show. Perhaps it is my inexplicable inability to meet Jay Clifford in person (we literally record music at the same studio and play music at the same venues--how has this still not happened). Whatever the reason, I really like it.

In that same vein, I really miss college sometimes. Not the part where I would have recurring nightmares that the well-being of my family depended on my ability to adequately draw the three main Lewis structures of a calcium carbonate molecule, but the other stuff. The stuff I could never re-create now. Like when we would have those 3 hour lunches with Mike and Marti and that crew--how did that happen? Even now, if I had the time to do something like that, the desire is gone. Yet we did it every day for like 5 months.

I know that 10 years from now I'll look back and think "God what I would give to be in my mid-twenties again. That was such a great time."

whatever happened to nap time

I died of boredom yesterday. Just like Jim from The Office. I was sitting at my desk filling out some orders for chemicals or something like that when all of a sudden I was just overcome by the desire to slam my face on my desk and lay there with my arms hanging by my sides. So I did. I didn't expect Dina to immediately understand what had happened and yell "I THINK KATIE JUST DIED OF BOREDOM!" across the entire room, but it was definitely a nice touch. Very sitcom-ey.

I have been feeling more and more like this as the days pass. Another couple of months and I'll probably end up developing multiple personalities and starting a secret society with my friends where we beat the crap out of each other after work twice a week. I think I'll call it "Fight Club."

My friend Maryanne and I got bored the other day so we went down to the glass breezeway to eat some candy and watch them load bodies into the morgue like usual, and she started telling me about how her fiance Philip wanted the two of them to go as Heidi and Spencer for Halloween. There were so many things confusing to me about that. First off, aside from looking like poster children for the utopian race of the Third Reich, there is nothing about those two that really stands out, and therefore nothing off of which you could base a costume. Secondly, how does her allegedly straight boyfriend know who Heidi and Spencer are? I hope he's not gay. And if he is, I hope he comes out before they get married and have kids. Thirdly, if I were going to do a couples costume at Halloween, I would go as something really kick ass. Like Marilyn Manson and his 12 year old actress/girlfriend. Or Ozzy and Sharon. But Heidi and Spencer? Come on Philip, get a grip.

turns out i'm one of those people

I just went to Rite Aid at lunch to buy some stuff I needed and was all the way up at the front of the line when I realized I was about to purchase four boxes of O.B tampons and huge bar of Cadbury dark chocolate. Could I be any more of a cliche today.

Erin forced me to borrow Twilight. It was sitting on my floor in my house unopened until last night after she and Kiera both insisted that I just give it a shot. So I'm all "please, I'm not going to be able to get into book about vampires that is intended for teenaged girls."

I think everyone can see where this is going.

Four hours later, aka four in the morning, I marked the page I was on with my finger and fell asleep with the light on. I woke up three and a half hours after that and read a little longer, before I showered and took the book to work with me. Now its sitting on my desk, and the only thing i can think about is getting off of work and going to Starbucks and getting a tall skim green tea latte and sitting in one of those giant chairs and reading it.

I hate it when your kindergarten teacher tells you that everyone is unique and different like a snowflake, and then you spend the next 20 or so years of your life discovering that actually no, you aren't. You're just like everyone else who reads Harry Potter. You're just like everyone else who listens to Britney Spears and Rihanna. You're just like everyone else whose dad built a full-sized Sioux indian tipi in their back yard and made them go on a vacation on the Oregon Trail for a week where they dressed up like prairie children even though everyone else was dressed like a normal 21st century human being. Twice.

boo-frickedy-hoo

After this whole blowup with "guy I was actually going to take a chance on," I am not feeling quite as destroyed as my initial reaction on Saturday led me to believe I would. As a matter of fact, yesterday I had that same warm feeling all day that you get right before Christmas. It was strange.

I'm not sure if it is relief that the inevitable has happened (I hope not, because that outlook is much too hopeless for my age) or if it is just accelerated acceptance of the situation. The fact that I was given immediate and honest perspective by my two closest friends has been the most important thing so far--I don't know what kind of weird delusions I would be feeding myself right now if it weren't for them.

Despite everything I just said however, I know I have been deeply affected by the whole situation because of one thing: I can't eat. I haven't really eaten since brunch on Sunday, unless you count the granola bar that I literally choked down this morning before I left the house. I'm confused, because by all accounts I thought that post-breakup is when you are supposed to slam down gallons of ice cream and watch "Terms of Endearment" and wallow in your bed surrounded by stuffed animals. And it makes the angry that the one thing in that list I would actually WANT to participate in, I can't.

I also know that I've been hurt because when I was looking at my friend Kristina's pictures on Myspace, I ran across one of him and couldn't breathe for like a minute.

misc.

There's not really a point to this picture. It's just one of about 10 different types of women that I would like to be.

warning: i just re-read this entry, and it is completely uninteresting.

I feel so good right now--I am the only one here and I am inside and it is freezing and I am wearing Jay's fleece that he left here which is like 14 sizes too big for me, and I am listening to Elton John's Honky Chateau album and my parents are finally going back home after the longest weekend ever and I am going to have lunch with Tizzle at the Wickliffe House. AND I am drinking a Vanilla Coke Zero. For a Monday, this ain't bad.

My hair has been growing since the end of February. I feel like it should be hitting me at the ankles right about now, but in reality the shortest layer is still just barely hitting the middle of my cheekbone. At first I was just going to do a kind of flapper cut and keep it that length, but I think I might just keep it chin-length for a few months and then move on to actually growing it out. I have never had my hair longer than mid-neck my entire life, so I think it would be fun to just see what long hair is like.

Boy, was that ever a boring paragraph for anyone besides myself. I hope I never elaborate on things like that in real life.

Yesterday was the one month anniversary of me being 24 years old. cRaZy. 24 actually does feel different. I wasn't expecting that.

the jitters

So the guy I first met approximately three weeks ago invited my parents and me to his show out on Folly Beach last night, and they went and met him. I'm not sure that I can adequately explain how nervous I was on way over, but when we walked in the door and he was wearing a hot pink feather boa gifted to him from a bachelorette party and singing some poppy song about smacking up bitches, I started cracking up and relaxed. He told me afterwards that he was vaguely mortified when we chose that moment to walk in, but I honestly would not have had it any other way.

This one is making me nervous because he hasn't let me down yet. We had a little hiccup the other day where he said that things were moving very quickly and he needed a day alone just to adjust some, but unlike the others that's exactly what it was--just a little time to clear his head. After that it was just back to business as usual, and suddenly he wanted to meet my mom and dad. You would think that this would make me relax more, but it is having exactly the opposite effect, because I am getting to the point where if it DOES suddenly fall apart I will be profoundly hurt (not to mention have a lot of explaining to do).

I know what I have to do. I have to stop thinking this way, because if I continue to expect the worst it will just end up a self-fulfilling prophecy. I have to stop telling myself that it is completely impossible that I may have actually found someone worth the risk. I have to let myself take a chance even if the results may be disasterous. Everything is risky--I could technically get electrocuted by my computer because I am typing on it while it is storming outside, but I'm still typing. That being said, I don't think I could be more scared if I were standing on the ledge of a fucking skyscraper.

My dad and I never gab about my relationships outright, but we were talking about it in very vague terms and he said "Most people you meet aren't worth the gunpowder it would take to shoot'em across the street, but when you meet the ones who are, you pretty much know it right away." I think he's right, but I would also really love to know where he gets this stuff.

the circle game

I think that there is a distinct possibility I am about to be disappointed in a big way. I don't really know why I continue to be surprised when people let me down.