~That Blue Blur~

Body Language

2008-12-09T13:30:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel like I should wear a name tag: My name is Kitty I have Fibromyalgia, it makes me forget. And then I won't need to explain to people when it takes me a moment to find the information or when I have to ask them to repeat the question or ask what we were talking about. And theres this overwhelming sense of learning what my body is trying to tell me with its creaks and groans of pain, how to move with my back up right when all I want to do is bed over and rub its base or roll my shoulders around at work when I would rather lie on a heatpad.

However much my body hurts my mind hurts me more. I hate forgetting and searching through closed boxes in my mind to find things. I hate that focusing on things makes me ache all over sometimes. It was my mind that led me to leave my much loved dream of interpreting. I don't know if I want to use the words I will never be an interpreter but right now thats how it looks. It made me sad to lay it down but I can't concentrate on all the complicated techniques and things, also I can't go into a profession just to end up letting clients down when I can't remember what was just said. My goal in the end was to work in the school system with Deaf and Hard of Hearing (hh) childern. This is still my goal and I'm going to persue it by becoming an Educational Assistant (EA). I can still work with Deaf and hh kids as wells a whole range of other children who use ASL (non communitive children, children who are a little slow, etc) The program doesnt start till september so right now its a waiting game but I will be voluntering at a school with deaf and hh kids to pass my time and help show experience. Its given me time to work on my crochet for christmas at least.

I dont really now how to sign this one off, there were other things I wanted to blog about however I can't remember....oh well

Always
~Kitty

Where have I gone?

2008-10-13T09:25:00.001-07:00

Its been very scary and frightening, these last few weeks. I don't feel like myself all the time any more I have trouble concentrating and its very frustrating, I'm forgetting things and just don't feel like myself. I'm normally very organized in my head and able to focus on and plan lots of different things and now focusing on just one thing at a time takes a lot of effort. Not to mention I'm sore all the time, and not sleeping well. I've been missing school and having trouble getting assignments in on time. At least I've been able to start crocheting again, the relief of having a name to put to my rotten feeling has made me feel like doing things I enjoy again. I haven't been able to start writing again, I just don't have the focus or the dedication yet. Im hoping my adjusted medication will help me be able to focus on school again, I love my program and have dreamed of being an interpreter for years and really want to succeed in this. I'm lucky to have supportive teachers and friends helping me through this and am hoping to be able to find myself again soon. But I thought I would share some pictures of my latest crochet project, its been really nice to be able to get back to it and I've got a whole pile of patterns to work on that I've been building up in the hopes of finding my drive again! I made the mouse from the book "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" and also an assortment of cute animals!

~Kitty

Where have I gone?

2008-10-13T08:35:00.001-07:00

News

2008-10-03T20:00:00.000-07:00

So as all of you readers of my blog know I've been sick for a while and I finally have an answer. I have fibromyalgia and have been living with it for a week now, well having a name for it. I've had it for much longer about 2 or so years now. It explains all of my problems and pain and means that my soreness is not in my head. All my muscle aches and pains, my spasms and my tiredness all the mind fogs. I got diagnosed after I had a breakdown and rushed myself to the doctor because i was frightened by how much i seemed to be loosing track of things and forgetting and not being able to focus after i missed some meetings for a presentation and then the presentation itself. Most of my group was worried for me one was and is still overly mad because she thinks I am giving excuses. But I have no time to care about her being petty. My mind seems to be getting better with the meds they gave me and i am waiting on a specialist appointment to confirm the diagnosis. Its really awsome to have a name to whats wrong with me, to know why i am sick and always feeling icky to have a reason but now i get to deal with all the things that come with the diagnosis but im happy. Its still wired to but its nice to be able to treat it.

This is a link for anyone who is interested in more info. Its lumped in wiht chronic fatiuge and pain conditions and causes mind fogs that make me feel like i am swiming thru cotton wool in my head and they make me forgetful. Its herditary (my mother has it) and it most common in women. http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/fibromyalgia/DS00079

The most important thing for me to remember is that I have fibro, it does not have me :)

~Kitty

2008-09-23T15:30:00.000-07:00

"I LOVE when guys hold doors for me! It makes me feel like such a lady...it's even better when they make cute faces"

This has been a kitty-ism, we now we return to your scheduled programing ;)

Always,
~Kitty

P.S
Give my music a chance, I'm trying it out and I do love this song!!

A little update :)

2008-09-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

So there's a lot going on, I'm back to school, at a new job and trying to find a balance in which to live. My parents are constantly telling me I'm a child and telling me to be an adult. They want me to go out and have a life, not happy that I am happy to sit at home and read. It is complicated to fit into society when I feel so round-peg-in-a-square-hole. I'm happy to be at a good job where everyone is friendly and the hours are steady, I'm glad to be pursuing my life's dream of working towards being an interpreter and I like the majority of my school mates and yet, I do feel a hole in my life that my little George, with all his cuddles and purring cannot fill. I'm nearly 20. I made myself a goal this year that I would sorta like to have my first date before I hit the big 2-0. I would love to find someone to share my ideas and passions with, to go to the museums and zoos and bowling and all the other random things I want to share with someone. Almost everyone I know or have met has been dating since they were young. I don't really envy them, I've never yearned to go through men like peanuts or any other snack food but shouldn't there have been someone some where who could have fit with? I don't crave a guy, I'm not desperate or looking frantically I've seen what it does through many friends who have the issue of being alone and rush into relationships and into failure, I need to find someone who makes me think and smile and who respects my well "old timey feel" for the premarital mambo.I think my parents set me back a litte, they met at 16/17 and have been together ever since so, in my mind I thought I'd be with the man I was going to marry by now I would be married by 22/23 and would be having my first baby soon. Nope. I don't want to be an older mother so I set myself a date and its funny how this is precieved. Some people see me as a liberated, open minded women others see me as ruinging my life and that of the child I would have. If I am not married or close to it by the time I'm 28 I've deiceded I've going to have a turkey baster baby (or IF baby). I would prefer to be married, but what is life without a backup plan? For now I simply try to float along my day and work through what I need to work through and hope for that movie moment when i reach for that book on the book shelf or say that's my favorite blank and someone one esle will say me too! lets go to lunch! Its a silly school girl romance, but every girl wants one....
Always,
~Kitty

Its been a while

2008-09-05T19:25:00.000-07:00

So my title lends to many things, it's been a while since I've posted, a while since I've written anything in the novel/short story front (it's mostly been poetry if I'm lucky). So, about this time last year, I wrote my last short story. In truth, it began as a writing exercise and is in a different tone from anything I have written before but I liked it and so I followed it through to a place where I felt comfortable. I will also post the last story I wrote before this one, which I wrote, well back in grade 10 in my media arts class. But it was edited and made better when I worked it for a creative writing class. Hope maybe someone likes them!

For When You Need To Know Me

In the silence and peace the train allows me between stops and while rattling along the tracks, I look to the smallest part in me, the place where, for the moment you live. I know that you are very small; perhaps right now you have not a care in the world. Maybe your cares are my cares, or you worry about your father and the broken words and phrases that break through to you. About him I have few words to say to you. He is a good man, he is capable of great things, but just because a man is capable does not mean he does all he is capable of. Know that I love him with all my soul and that if ever I speak an ill word against him it is in anger and not in truth. I will not try to tell you how to feel about him, or guide your heart, that is for you to decide. All I ask, all that he asks; for he himself knows his truths better than any other man, is that you give him a chance. Do I fear you will not love him? Yes. For there are many days where I myself ponder how I feel about him, at night as I lay in bed and fall asleep, or as I ride the train as I do today and I watch the sun rise, slow and unhurried by anyone; I know that in the deepest depths of my soul I love him. I love him so that even if there were another that I found amiable, he would always be the love that stirred my desire.

I do not pretend to be a seer, and nor will I dare to make predictions in case they break your heart in the future. Know only that we will strive for your happiness always, and your well being. No matter if you are born a boy or a girl, I will hold you in my arms, sing to you and make sure your every need is met. You will be my chief concern. When you toddle, regardless of you nature, I will hold your hand and help you take those first steps and then, when it is time, I will stand back and let you run. I will not crush your freedom, knowing that in its youth it is a delicate and fragile thing. I know your father wishes only for your health and happiness. I know he too will help you to toddle around, hold you on his lap and whisper to you secrets and stories for the two of you. He, like me, will marvel in you miniature perfection, the simplicity of your needs, and all the potential you hold. Slowly and without your knowledge, you will give us our new lease on life.

Are we happy? I can hear you thinking this as I write these words, already you must wonder what kind of man is your father as you gaze over the words I have written and search them, and read them into their fading to find a different tone in which to find truth. I will tell you this now, and whisper it to you as you lie dormant in the tiny corner of my soul you inhabit at this moment. Truth has many sides, some considered lies but each of us has our own truth, and in time you will find your own and in that will find peace. Even without knowing it you will find your wholeness in the tiny moments others will think of no great importance. Embrace these moments where you feel truly with yourself. And yet, for the small portion of these times we devote to our happiness (and manage to fill) yes, we are happy together, in our evenings together and those stolen moments during the day when everything is so fast moving and rushed. I will not promise you that we will always be together, but I can attempt to promise we will always be around for you and that we will always be, in some form or another, connected to each other in deeper ways then any can be explained with words. Happiness is fleeting but I can claim to own, no not own but to rent, the small bit that wafts to me on the steam of my morning tea and the slipping touch of his hand as he passes it to me.

All I can do now is try to be patient and wait as you grow. Wait until you are ready to see the sun. I have done my share of waiting, and of watching. I have watched as others have had their babies, longingly gazing as they hold them tight and let them loose to play. I’ve seen them running and repairing scraped knees, now I wait for the pain I know must proceed, and yet, not mar the beginning of our lives together. Do I fear it? I know if you are a girl, who will grow to be a woman you will ask this of me, do I fear the pain? Do I worry about what could go wrong or how I might fail in this trial of mine? Maybe if you are a caring boy-child or when finally you are grown and your wife draws near to her time you will come to me, or to your father and ask of us, was there fear in our hearts? How did we maintain our strength? I do not know how I will answer, or if I will ever know except for when the question is asked and the words are leaving my lips. Maybe I will know the pain well but then, perhaps you will be followed by many more, and it will have become a friend whom I look at as the bearer of good and glad news to me. At this moment, I cannot say, I only know I look forward to your coming as I have looked forward to nothing else in my life.

For now, only the three of us know of your place, yourself of course, your father and most of all me. Now there is more waiting, I wait for the flutter of your heart, the soft movements that are sure to come as you grow. You will be my tiny gymnast flipping and twirling in your own private pool. I will wait, till I know in the most definite terms of your plans to stay until I tell other people. Your father had to know, it was important for our standing, for our lives at that moment, we needed something to hold on to together, and you were our tiny secret and our binding glue. When you are older, if you ever ask me of our troubles, I will tell you in the hopes that they will help you to stop them from becoming your own troubles. At least, know always that you are special to us, and that we will support you will the end of our days, and try to help you for as long as is possible for us to do.

It seems to me now that I carry with-in me a perfect miracle that I notice, in great abundance, those which occur almost every day around me. The brilliance and flawed projection as a sunrises bursts to life with dark pomegranate reds, soft grapefruit pinks and the specking of a pale violet in the edges as it reaches out slender fingers that fatten to take the sky for their own. And the ways you can see it! If watching the sky was not enough for you there is always the option of seeing it reflected in the buildings around you, the way the colors flow back from clouds, a white stencil being placed on colored paper. Then there is a natural mirror that adds its own splendor as it duplicates others, though imperfectly, for this thing lives like the dawn, forever and always moving, waves pulling and pushing its existence in a comfortable dance of the ages. All these things I will take you to see and others you will not need me for. When the rain plops onto the roof and the thunder breaks and the lighting slips into your room, you will know them for what they are, a break from the too quiet times and the washing of all that needs it, to rid the earth of worry. I know for deep inside you is a piece of my soul and I know and love these things, and in a part of him so does your father, thought he may not want to admit it. I know you will value these things and treasure them, even if, with you as it is with him, it is in secret.

Now I often sit and I deny myself the luxury of relaxing in the thought that we are a perfect family and have few issues. I will not let these thoughts come to me until I know I can live in them without being disturbed by the rudeness of reality. One day I think someone will come to me and ask to spend the remainder of my days with them quiet and careful, in my hopes and my wildest dreams it is your father that comes to me, as I sit on my balcony in the falling evening to speak to me and quiet tones and then as I rise to leave to bed he will call me back, and for a moment we will sit together and he will hold my hand in his own and ask for us to call the searching off and that for the rest of our days to be happy sitting this way together. But for this moment at least I sit and know that we are content in our togetherness as shallow and non permanent as it is.

This morning when I was racked by nausea, for a moment I had forgotten my condition. In my head was the slight fear of the flu when your father came to me and laughed, ‘Now you’re in for it darling.’ I myself laughed back and told him that was no way to speak to the mother of his child, and he helped me off the floor. So you were remembered, as you will always be, with a smile.

Today was entirely earth shattering (in a splendid way so don’t worry my little one)! Today we called everyone over for dinner, your grandparents (my parents), your Papa James, (that’s your father’s father) as well as my grandparents and some of our other family because we had decided to tell everyone the news. Before dinner, we sat on the balcony and chatted away, Clara, (who will be your aunt before you get here) was telling us all of the wedding plans, colors and things, and Papa James was asking how we (your father and I) were doing, all knowing full well we have had our troubles, and your father looked at me his eyes shining. I have never seen his eyes so bright nor his soul so clearly. In his eyes at the moment was such tenderness and love, I would tease him later for all his pretending of rough skin. I see this as the perfect cue went and stood next to him, and at that moment I knew my mother’s thoughts and did feel, for a second, disappointed in myself for I knew I would let her down. “We’re going to have a baby,” I said softly. I knew there was a large smile snaking its way across my face, my joy glowing pink.

Always know that they were all excited for your arrival, just some people would have expected, myself included, marriage before a baby, but now that you are on your way, I could wish for nothing more than to hold you. There were hugs all around and a few tears. Papa James gave me such a big hug, his eyes shining, “You are such a light” he whispered to me, “For the both of us.” He pulled away and shook my father’s hand. Later on as I put the final touches on supper, I saw the men over in a corner lighting cigars that had mysteriously arrived. Pride could have been your father’s middle name, because we are his joy and in that lays his pride in himself. Never feel this weight; it is not for you to bear.

Dinner went smoothly and happily and after your father helped me to do dishes and then we sat on the balcony, his arm around my shoulders and basking in each other’s company. In my mind this moment was perfect. As we went to bed that night, he came round to the side of my bed and sat down, he took my hands and asked me to be his wife. I cried, and suddenly I knew who had brought the cigars and how he had helped my mother adjust. He had asked my father. We will be married soon, a small affair, family a few friends a little chapel and I will wear a pale yellow dress. This I have already decided, there is no point in wearing white, and yellow is a happy color. I will not have you swayed to be one or the other before your time so yellow also helps there. You are always considered.

Your father came to me and said he’d found a church, in two weeks we will be married. Before Clara and Shawn. I asked her the other day if she was mad at me, or felt that I was stealing her thunder, she smiled and laughed, she has always been easy going. “Never!” she had told me, “You’ve been together longer, years longer than us, and we are happy for you. It will even help me to calm my nerves.” We hugged and I knew the words were true. So now the preparations begin in earnest. There seems to be so much to do for one day. A dress for me and then a color for my two brides maids, flowers, where we will have the reception and things like that. Things now move so fast and it seems like there are not enough hours in the day in which to do everything and still rest. I’m worried that you will become mischievous and start growing now so I will buy a dress that will give you room.

And now, with only 3 days to go I have found a dress, a pale lily yellow dress with an empire waist, little white lines forming flowers all over. I’ll have my red hair curled and pulled up and have a flower settled into it while some of it is left to flow. Everything is falling into place and everyone has called to say they will be there and it feels as though, now, I wait. More waiting. Waiting for my wedding and then waiting for you. But after my wedding, there is another thing to wait for, and there is only a short time to wait I will have a honeymoon. I am ecstatic. We are going to London and France, and maybe Scotland if we can fit it in. All of you grandparents have planned this for us, and my grandparents. We will be gone for 3 weeks and I will enjoy every second of it

Little one, you will not remember Paris, or London, but they were wonderful, all the stuff of poems and art. Your father was kind he humoured me and we toured the museums and galleries. I bought a copy of a beautiful painting that made you dance when I stood in front of it. I shall hang this in your room, and maybe it will make you feel glad. I am a married woman now, and it is lovely. It is every dream come true. And it was your father. My soul explodes with this happiness.

You grow with such urgency now! There is no time to adjust and no time to rest my weary back. Your father brings me tea when he is home and calls me from the office. Now he worries. I do not know if it is because this is in me deeper than breathing, but I do not worry much. A little, but that is it, only about if there maybe pain. I know soon enough you’ll be here and we will count all your toes and fingers and then my mind flies over the pain.

Hey kiddo, your mother wanted me to add something, so I’ll do it now while she’s busy and then she can’t coo over my words. You’re on your way now, before the morning they’re telling us. We are excited for you to come into our lives. I don’t have any beautiful words of my own, like your mother sprouts, but there is one thing I remember her reading to me. If you are a daughter I will hold you close like a pearl in my hand and show your shine to the world, if you are a boy you will be my spade, strong, sturdy and full of the love I have for our workings together. I hope they’re ok. They stuck with me; they’re like your mother that way. We love you, and the waiting’s nearly over. Our world is no longer as bumpy as you may have imagined, we are a family now, and with you, we will start the new chapter. There are so many people waiting for you here, and now I have to go, if I’m not there someone else will have to cut the cord! Love your dad.

You are here, in all your perfection and I am happiness itself.

I am....

2008-08-08T22:00:00.000-07:00

I am green today, I chirp with joy like a cricket song,
I am grey today, gloomy and damp like a morning fog,
I am orange today, loud and messy like finger paint on the wall
I am red today, hopping mad like a playground ball
I am black today, strong and tall a great big bear
I am purple today, bright and happy like a butterfly in the air

I’m a rainbow today, all the colors of the world
I’m a rainbow today, all the colors of the world are in me

I am yellow today, I shine my light out like the sun
I am White today, soft and quiet like new snow
I am Blue today, calm as glass and cool like the sea
I’m a rainbow today, all the colors of the world are in me
Colors, Kira Willey

I wish I could be simple like colors, but colors are never simple, you cannot simply name a color, there are too many shades and variables. I want to name my moods ands and be simple. I yearn for simple, but simple is the grave and I have not lived enough for that. My heart is breaking and my mind goes with it. Where do I put my finger when everything is floating and I have nowhere to place my finger and say here is where I am, this here is where I want to be. I do not own that talent. I cannot find my heart, I cannot find my place. Who will save me from myself?
~Kitty

Primal Sky

2008-07-31T16:48:00.000-07:00

Just a quick part from a touching story!

I stood on the baclcony, wollen shawl slipping over my left shoulder and for once I let it lie. It was only Charlie with me now and he knew the long scar the went from the edge of my neck to just under my left arm and its history. Dawn was tangible and the stars were dreams I had once embroiderd; small and tiny stiches in a million facceted plans every inch of how it was suposed to go. I felt Charlie pulling up my shawl before I heard the curtin swing-he was to quick of me. "You know I hate seeing that" his voice a sigh, thin and quick, like the thead that held my stars. I leaned into his shoulders, it was my shelter and the once place I was constantly running from, I shrugged the shawl to hang off my shoulder again. "Please," I whispered, knowing he didn't like the words, "let it be, it's the only time I don't care." I reached and pulled my hair over my right shoulder and leaned forward on the railing, water rushing periliously below and I thought how easy... "Don't" it was all he said. It was more what he did not say, more what he touched, pulling his finger down the puckered edges of tight skin, I breathed and knees bucking my skin danced under some thing that was as close as I thought a second skin could get. He felt me shiver and wraped me tight in our darkness full of memories like this one, standing both of our arms wraped around me and I leaned in. I felt like a magnet. He was the oposite of my magnet: hold us right and we were solid turn only one of us and I was often that was pushed away. No. I was often the one that pushed myself away. "Oh Charlie." He kissed the tip of my ear and I leaned my head against his cheeck, feeling the stubble that rubbed with each breath. It was better than placeing a hand on his chest...this felt, primal. Like us. He was mine, but he was not; we were not...not lovers. That was the word people thought when they saw us. Like one of us would be married somwhere and coming to be wiht the other in a small town. I knew I was always the one they thought had led him astray from some small house wiht a fence and yard dappled children and dogs. When I thought about it, really focused, trying to borrow threads of permenance from my stars I could find to word for us. Temporary. Constant. Flighty. It was new use, there was no word I knew in any language that could fit the neiche between us. It was as if we were the same, a gently curving creation that had been split with such care that we never lost even a sliver. Until I jarred the sculpting tool. It was my sin, I carried it and even though it had been sewn over long ago I knew Charlie flinched at it and blamed himself in fretful nights of shallow slumber. And even as I thought and rememberd, staring at my dappled sky he rubbed the heel of his plam into my scar trying to rub in his own diamonds out of coal colored fears.

~Kitty

2008-07-16T20:59:00.000-07:00

all i want is to be held because some one loves me, to be kissed because it just had to be done, for that one person to find me and not to be called an old fashioned woman for wanting the things i want.

the point of a silencer is not to make the gun silent but to make it sound like something else....

~Kitty

Yay! Summer Plans

2008-07-14T07:30:00.000-07:00

So I'm excited cuz this week I'm meeting my fave professor for breakfast this week and am very excited! it will be nice to practise my asl and catch up on everything and see baby pictures of his little one. So hurrah for a summer outing!!!
Kitty

2008-07-11T21:05:00.000-07:00

what do I want as my summer slowly wanes away and I barly get any hours at work and it feels like my life is pulling at the seems of a gentle blanket sticth I thought could hold my life together? to be loved and held and kissed and cared for. to have someone to talk to about anything with and have them listen and talk back to me, not just sit there and tell me they "they like listening to me" to have some sort of connestion that is deep and meaningful. i get tired of being alone and wish for love. and as i get older and ppl still make fun of me and no one asks me on a date and the random guy i say to "wanna get a drink?" looks at me and goes yea, im busy like has always happened on the few times i have ventured to ask. i refuse to believe i am that replusive to everyone. i can be shy among guys cuz of my lack of experiance and i think it shows thru. im tired of dreaming and heartache, i want something tangiable and real. I want to be held close in the night i want to forget that 'broken' feeling i want to be loved even tho it doesnt feel like it will ever happen, i want someone to hold my hand and care. im tired of everyone saying this is my bf/gf, you should bring yours we'll do a double date. what can be so wrong with me that no one will love me for who I am? just because im not a party goer and im slow to make friends, still scared they will soon move away like they did overseas and having such different views from growign up elsewhere. I would give up all of my tavel, multicultural experiences knowing what career i want to follow and a handful of other things to have a two sided love and the connection that is the power behind my trying to make it from day to day, waiting. god i cant be that retched as for no one to see me as worhty of love....

Need it a Name?

2008-06-21T17:42:00.000-07:00

You pull on me like a drug. I'll never go cold cause I don't wanna give you up,
-I Got U, Blake Lewis

I love the feel, the smell, the weight of a new volume. The depth of historys uncounted and unnoticed. No one reads the same thing or sees the same delicate embrodary on the written sleeve. I love the soft fabric of a hardbound, the deep sound it gives at a gentle closing. One word leads to two and then two more when only one was an original. And who would I be if I was not everyone I have ever read or written?

"like grey skies before the rain, before that final morn, and I fail so hard; so well"

Look to the beauty in grey skies and the pheonix in the coulds...

Always,

~Kitty

Curse those sails!!

2008-06-20T13:30:00.001-07:00

Let the pun enrage your minds and push out the fact that i have not posted in a wee bit! so my local book store had a sail on for by 3 get the 4th free FOR EVERYTHING IN THE STORE!!! oh the crulty. So here I am 4 new books (oh, yes I was very good, that and my mom bought 2 that we've agreed to share :p) did i mention im half a paycheck short now? Anyways (insert asl sign for forget that) (CATS!! oh i know that one.....i'm watching weakest link here people) Ok so i bought myself a whole bunch of historical fiction and a brand spanking new copy, that is all my own of Arabian Nights translated by a man who has translated many novels I have deeply enjoyed and a wonder copy of Sinbad and his adventures on his boat. I love these stories, letting me slip away to a place I relish and love to find my self in. And so now the family copy can return to the basement shelves and new one with a note in the corner of the last page will take its place in the bookshelf on the headboard of my bed.
"May it always remind you of what once was home"
Always,
~Kitty

A "Sticky with feeling and nostaligia" post

2008-06-04T10:25:00.000-07:00

Even when I was a kid, I had a great imagination for stories. I had specific stories I would would play out with dolls, toys and my invisible friends. I would play them over, the same people, diffrent things happening and thigns like that. Even so young i knew about love and it was always there. In my backyard I had a swing set with a slide and played out there all the time, summer and winter. I can remember playing at robin hood. Being maid marien and going on adventures, getting in trouble, getting out of trouble all the fun of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor (that may have included a few bunnies)...Anyway I was awake last week in the wee hours of the morning and found a BBC production of Robin Hood, it was awsome and I ended up downloading seasons 1&2 and I loved it! It reminded me of the games I used to play and became one of the shows where the characters are well played and planed and it was full of action and romance (i do live vicariously through tv and books for my romance) and its a funny thing I always find when I get into a show or a book that when it ends its sorta like saying good bye to good friends. I have a habbit of getting ideas from shows and a few short stories and a few day dreams when I'm bored, and at the end of it some feel quite close, it happens more often with books but every once in a while a movie or good show will do it. Its always strange to see how things change from when you were a kid to when you're older but how somethings are still important and how some stories and things stick with you and just keep repeating its self in different ways....its a random post i know...
~Kitty

Post Op!

2008-05-29T12:02:00.000-07:00

So tuesday I went in for my procedure, which wasn't anything compared to the prep I had to do on monday (wow, pain-ful!!). the worst part was getting the IV cuz im deathly affraid of them and then they said they needed to put it on the hand which didn't have the emla on it (numbing patch for needles) lots of crying, and being scared, and it didnt hurt going in but once it was in it was itchy!! and now it just sort of aches a little. I had very painful cramping after it which ended me in the walkin clinic for painkillers and other anti-biotics. Any way, for any one who was worried for me we don't know what my problem is yet, i have an appointment later in the month of june but we know for sure its not cancer. So now its waiting to find out what it is I have...I strongly dislike waiting....
Always,
~Kitty

Museums of the World

2008-05-24T10:17:00.001-07:00

I've been traveling the world since I was a young girl of 10, traveling around Europe and the Middle East and where ever we go we would always stop at museums or historical places. When we were in Paris we visted the Louvre. I walked around and looked at the pictures not taking in as much as I would now that I'm older but still enjoying it. When we got to the gift store (a must visit on any trip) and I picked up a postcard there that has ever since held a perminate place on any corkboard that is near my desk. I have loved looking at it and trying to figure out who these people were, who is the misstress who is the servent, are they both servants? Are they friends? Many a short story has been written from this picture. I miss traveling since we've moved back to Canada and I can't wait until I'll be able to afford to go traveling again, though it will be a very long time I'm sure, but it would be lovely to walk through all those museums again and visit the Anne Frank House a 2nd time. So now its just looking at pictures and waiting to hit it big in interpreting or to take my skill out of the country and become a highly skilled expat.....
Always,
~Kitty

the nerves!! the nerves!!

2008-05-22T13:34:00.000-07:00

So in about 5 days i get to go in for some, well lets call it an exploritory procedure. Basicly i've been pretty sick since last summer and my stint in the emergency room and so finally after months and months of pain and discomfort they decided they'd go in and have a look-see. Im starting to get nervous about it all, i mean to begin with i HATE needles and i have to get an IV and then i have to hang around the hop-ital until they say i can go home....but oo the morphemes good...lolz i mean if i lived through the last one they did (even with the painful post surgical inflation of my tummy...a really really big ouch) im sure this one will be ok. Its just the results that I'm waiting for really i guess...i want them to find something so i can stop being sick but i dont want it to be super bad or anything but ill be upset if they find nothing. Like all the other tests ive done to get here.
Always,
~Kitty

On a Grassy Hill

2008-05-20T07:48:00.000-07:00

I dream of being pregnant all the time. It symbolises the blossoming of new ideas and creative streaks, and all things new for dedication to begiven. In this particular dream I was standing on a hill in full ancient Roman garb with bare feet. (gosh I was stunning....) it was night time and there was a crestent moon in the sky, behind me to my left was a tree, it had pink flowers on it and was sorta japanese, but it might have been a flowering crab...anway and to my right more at my side was a patch of tall calla lillies and i was pregenat of course...i was HUGE but thats always the way (im sure ill have twins eventually) and infront of me fire works were going off in blue and green and yellow....so now im left to see what fantastic thing ill be embarking on in my future...
Always,
~Kitty

The Languages of Thought

2008-05-16T05:39:00.000-07:00

I love sitting in my bed once I've wakened and surrounding myself with books or notes textbooks. I like the peace of the early morning and right now my bed is scattered with my arabic books as I am attempting to re-pickup what have already taught myself over the last few months (I did less as school needed more focus) I'm a big fan of teaching myself things, I taught myself crochet, loom knitting, origmai, ASL when I first discovered it and now other languages (Spanish, Urdu and Arabic). Languages are one of my biggest loves I love looking at them and finding the similarities between languages decoding the writing and other things. Opening up whole worlds and cultures and being able to speak to different people. Most of my conversations with people I'm comfy with and who understand me (Like summer....) I use a bunch of languages shoved together and enjoy the medly of sounds that I can produce and share. But in the end it comes down to that I love the mellow feeling of a firm volume of text and a note book of my learned notes that I've copied and planned like a teacher :P....
Always,
~Kitty

Little Evening Dances

2008-05-13T11:42:00.000-07:00

I write so much from the memory of feeling that people often think im lovesick but i havn't actually been lovesick in a very long time! but what would i be if i was not an imaginative romantic??
Always,
~Kitty

The wind blows
And the evening dances
Memories flicker in this midnight light
In all the splendour of our darkness
In these desperate drifts of our desires
Yet what were they?
A fleeting touch
Stolen words inside a stolen moment
When all we were were stolen hearts
I fall and feel the breaking
A nothingness in the emptiness
Of late nights and later mornings
How do I dream when I know nothing
Of the intricacies of lovers lines
And yet, could this be something
If he turns and smiles my way
And yet can I hope for anything
When I fear to give myself away
And if I claim a lover
How slowly will I learn
That is not only stuff of make believe
And novels deep in lies
But it’s possible to hold to
A deep simple love and thrive?

Ode to the litter box that is the cookie jar of my life

2008-05-12T14:07:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have that moment where the world seems so empty and usless you just want to break down and sob your little heart out? You look at books, movies, tv, other peoples lives and you go "jungle bunnies!!!! why can't i live like that???" you look and go my job sucks, im endlessly single and I feel like im going no where. I mean really I'm 19 and what have i done with my life? I live at home, i have a lame job I dont party I dont have a bunch of friends and I feel like im just running in circles and waiting for something anything...to i guess whack me on the head. Who knows I mean really....You know what else I miss, when i was younger (ok so like 3 years ago) I could obsess (in a good way) on a book, movie, story i was writing and go on for weeks and months....if not Nary wouldn't have been born, my fanfic (i know i know the shame the shame) into 2 full blown novels. I miss being able to throw myself into something and day dream and dream and write and its not that i think ive lost my imagination but im not sure if i can harness it the same way all the time. Who knows. Any way in relation to an eariler post heres a short pull from my fav. book The Map of Love, its the kinda of random thing I've always done and thought about, after all I keep a box of colour cards under my bed in a shoe box....
Always
~Kitty

The card propped up on my dressing table calls this colour 'Drifter'. This colour card has been of no use to me to me for years, and yet I cannot bring myself to throw it away; it startles me that an object of such beauty should be held in such low esteem-and yet there they were in every B&Q, Sainsbury's HomeBase, etc., not to mention the specialised paint stores and hardware stores: hundreds of cards, stacked, inviting the most casual passer-by to pick one up, glance at it, and throw it into the nearest bin. But look what it does with the seven basic colours; it lobs you gently into the heart of the rainbow, and turns you loose into blue; allows you to wander at will from one end of blue to the other: seas and skies and cornflower eyes, the tiles of the Isfahan and the robes of the Madonna and the cold glint of a sapphire in the handle of a Yemeni dagger. Lie on the line between blue and green- where is the line between blue and green? You can say with certainty 'this is blue, and that is green' but these cards show you the fade, the dissolve, the transformation- the impossibility of fixing a finger and proclaiming, 'At this point blue stops and green begins.' Lie, lie in the area of transformation- strech your arms out to either side. Now: your right hand is in blue, your left hand is in green. And you? You are inbetween; in the area of transformations. Enough. Enough. And yet, I imagine Anna would have had the same thoughts about whatever version of the colour card there was in her day, for she was a woman who was arrested by small things, by shades of colour.

P.S Can I take this section to mention i love the word lob....

Some Random Things From Random Places I Love

2008-05-10T15:13:00.001-07:00

So here are some random poems and lines of songs and bits of books I like, they're the kinda things I put in my quote book and thought I'd like to share.
Always,
~Kitty

You say that my skin feels like no one else's,
That it's different somehow.
But I don't understand, isn't a hand just a hand?
No you don't understand. -Masochist By Ingrid Michaelson

Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess. -Breakable by Ingrid Michaelson

I remember the first time we danced.
I remember tunneling through the snow like ants.
What I don't recall is why I said,
"I simply can't sleep in this tiny bed with you anymore." -The Hat by Ingrid Michaelson

We don't say a word.
There's nothing to say that hasn't been heard.
And how you've grown my little bird.
I'm regretting letting you fly.

6 pounds and 7 ounces.
A ball of bones and flesh and tears were you.
Now your hands, your tiny pink hands,
Grew larger than my hands ever grew.-Highway By Ingrid Michaelson

All That I Am

2008-05-06T18:07:00.000-07:00

I am a plus sized woman in every meaning of the word. Theres a whole lot of me to love and to deal with. I love myself whole heartedly (how many women do you know who can blow dry their hair infront of mirror and still go on when that towel falls??). I am full of life, love and opinions that I will share until I can't go on anymore. I personaly have had a bit of a challenging week, yes I am well aware its only Tuesday. I was told by one of my family members that first thing they often think when they see me is how much weight I've put on. It hurt me very badly, even knowing they only have good intentions. I love my body, and have recently lost weight rather than put it on. I don't weigh myself, havn't done so in years. I struggle to see why others can't accept themselves and why others cannot except me. I have always been teased for it and even though I've built a tough skin once and a while things slip through. I think the biggest reason for my loving my body is 3 of my bestfriends have eating disorders and I have watched them struggle and hurt themselves and others, waste to nothing and pull back. I cannot say it enough GIRLS LOVE YOUR BODIES! LOVE YOU! I wont deny I have moments of weakness, you look at all those things that pile upon your chests like rocks and you think...I can skip breakfast....pfft who needs lunch. I could get surgery....and in the end I think I know myself and I dont think this is what I want. I have yo-yo dieted on several programs and struggled with a nutritionist and all the other things. It is always the same I loose a few pounds and gain a ton back and its terrible discouraging and then I go back to looking at the surgerys, but in the end I know that if I ever went for one of them it would be for my health and not because I hate my body and for me, its that that keeps me putting them off. I'm happy right now, and if I feel the weight is weighing on me (oh give me that one pun) and I worry for things that will affect me in the future (like having kids, getting sick) I'll do it...but now I'm sitting pretty with my back up plan as an exotic dancer! (Id be perfectly plump Polly and I'd have a parrot in my pole act ;) rraawwrrr) And since there is no person who I call companion and who loves me, I will always remember to treasure myself like a perfect flower or pearl until someone takes this joy from me and unto themeselves.
Always,
~Kitty

Peony In Love

2008-05-03T17:34:00.000-07:00

I had a beautiful wonderful post written and then with a click I lost it and am unable to find it again. My heart is broken and I don't have the heart to rewrite it knowing it will not be as perfect as the first. So I will say Peony in Love is a wonderful book by Lisa See it is a book about love and how unending it is and the efforts that are gone to to make it last. I will include the quote I finnished the post with and encourage everyone to read this wonderful book that also covers much of aincent Chinese culture and tradition. It covers how one play caused many young girls try to claim thier own futures and fell into "lovesickness" they stopped eating and die hoping that like in the play The Peony Pavillion their love will bring them back to life and they will lead a happy and full life.

"Mengmei changed his name because of a dream. Liniang fell sick because of her dream. Each had a passion. Each had a dream. They both treated their dreams are real. A ghost is merely a dream and a dream is nothing but a ghost."

And what could be more true?

Always,

~Kitty

Dude....I'm a feminist...sorta

2008-05-01T07:18:00.000-07:00

So, my good friend the Peach, is a preaching feminist, strong in her views and passionate about clearing up all the misconceptions. I mentioned feminism quickly in my Baby Mama post and this was one of the respones Peach made: "First of all, Kitty, you need to understand the simplicity behind being a feminist: do you value choice? your ability to choose a career, motherhood on your terms, your legal rights?" To which I replyed: "Deffinatly!!!So if i agree with all those things...am I a feminist too??" And as it turns out...: "Definitions of feminism don't always apply to all feminists - i've heard some pretty f(*&ed up definitions myself. You just have to break it down to what the main point is: CHOICE. if you believe in a woman's right to have choice - yes you are a feminist! welcome my friend :)" So as it turns out I can be a feminist and still get married, shave my legs, change my name to Mrs, and not hate men! Hoorah! But its still kinda odd. Its strange when you get a clearer image of somthing you thought was negative before and now see its been misconstrued (like so many things). But while I may share some ideas with feminism I don't think I would say I am a feminist, I'm not really that passionate about it, and if someone asked me, I'd probably say no, I'm not. But it's nice to know you're not all just a crazy bunch of women who are all business no kids, no husbands etc :)
Always,
~Kitty

P.S Oh yea...this was fun...lots of colours!! And I'm sure this will get me some comments ;)

On The Love I Find In Dreams

2008-04-30T16:56:00.000-07:00

"Love is of a source unknown, yet it grows ever deeper. The living may die of it, by its power the dead live again. Love is not love at its fullest if one who lives is unwilling to die for it, or if it cannot restore to life one who has died. And must love that comes in dream necessarily be unreal? For there is no lack of dream lovers in this world. Only for those whoe love must be fulfilled on the pillow, and for whom affection deepend only after retirement from the office, is it an entirely corporeal matter." -Preface to The Peony Pavillion, Tang Xianzu, 1598, as found in the begining of Peony In Love by Lisa See.

I will not claim to understand it fully but what I do comprehend is beautiful and what more do I need then a few pretty words to keep me dreaming?
Always,
~Kitty

On the Blogging Groove

2008-04-29T19:22:00.000-07:00

I want to stay in the grove and keep writing my blog and keeping ppl interested (if anyone wanders by at all) but these days I seem to be snagged on that ragged nail of lonliness. Its terribly pathetic and I'm well aware of this. But don't worry I'll keep it short and brief. Its just one of those times where I think, geese wouldn't it be nice to have some one to sit on the ol' porch swing with someone holding me and listening to the silly things I have to say. But I've never been desperate, and I've never seeked out approval or men. I just move from day to day and have a good cuddle with George. And I know I'll always be a hopeless romantic, no matter how jaded my views on love are. And I always look back at this poem. I wrote it on the night I had to put my older cat down, it came to me as I drove home and I think, that yes, theres my optomistic side...
~Kitty

If I believed in washing my wounds in shady bar light, I’d be a drinker
If I believed in riding the soft waves of a first class high, I’d be a junkie
If I believed in trading passion for this pain of mine, I’d be insatiable
And this gaping hole will close like the sky around the earth
Warm arms around an aching heart
In love’s shadow there’s oil for this burner of mine
Running off the remainder of spent dreams
A small flame in the darkness of my chances
Of finding the person who will create my perfect feeling,
Show me the love I long to know
I ‘m an insatiable junkie for this love I cannot find.

P.s Everyone love my colour coding?? I do :D

2008-04-27T20:10:00.000-07:00

In the shawl that drips from this seeking creature, there is a bird, bright and brave that glows. I like to look at this picture and think of the craftsmanship that some one wove into it, deep into the fabric near a candle late into the night, giving rise to dreams and hopes. And the woman herself? In the middle of the night many waken and search for many things. Perhaps she waits for a lover, or sits and thinks of the times just had as he sleeps in the bed or creeps before dawn to where he dwells. Maybe she waits for the times that will be had, the romance and companionship of a person yet to be met that holds her dreams near, in a mirror image; like stars in a shallow basin. And yet, these could be the thoughts of a hopeless romantic, with an as yet untapped spring of love who piles fancys on a flat image, with no one of her own to wisper them to....
~Kitty

Its Happened Again!

2008-04-27T12:30:00.000-07:00

Every year as winter seeps into the gutters and down into the may flowers I make a promise to myself to not let it sneak up on me. I promise to watch all the little buds as my flower garden grows it's dancers to watch as my tree gets ready to house the funny little bird that I talk to with clicking sounds and to watch as the baby sappling infront of my porch struggles to make its third summer. Every year I turn off my street onto the one that leads off it I find the trees covered with small pockets of green reaching out to the world around it and I noticed it today as I left for work. Again it has snuck upon me. I had been watching carefully and could have sworn yesterday there was nothing but empty twigs. And still it makes me wonder, maybe this is one of those perfect miricles that happens spontaniously in the first fingers of dawn that you can't watch happen, too fast to catch. The flowers are slower in stages of blooming, the gentle green sprounts pushing through eyelids of dirt and those I can watch and see the changes, anticipate the sudden blooming of vibrant colours. And when I think of things like this and I put them into words I know that I yearn for some one to share them with, th0ughts of how the moon shines and the sound of rain on my roof, of days when the wind dances on your face, the perfect pairing of warmth and cool when you walk wihtout the need for a sweater, and of course the suddenness of the of blooming. Lonlier than the beautiful, wild winter, is the warm romantic spring.
Always yours, even though you havn't found me;
~Kitty

Fudger Bunnies

2008-04-23T19:12:00.000-07:00

OMG i just cant win my tv shows!!! I mean goodness quaker oats!! First marlee off dancing wiht the stars and now carly off idol??? can no one i like win?? now david cook has to win. no other choice but brook should have gone home, shes been crap for AGESSS!
GOSH DARNIT
~Kitty

oh thats fa-uped

2008-04-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

OHH im soo upset Marlee is gone from dancing wiht the stars!! She did such a factastic job and was an amazing trooper, (and her latest movie was awsome). Im sad to see her go, she tried her best, but thats the kind of thing that is easier when you can hear the beat. But she was AMAZING proving any one can do anything they put thier mind to, but i dont understand why they didnt just stick a pumped up speaker face down on the floor to help her feel the beat!! But she was still and always will be a fantastic woman!
~Kitty

Just at the edge of my eyes

2008-04-21T08:12:00.001-07:00

Do you ever have that dream, and its so real and so perfect and you live in it whole heartedly until the second you feel it slipping away as the sun peeps in or sound creeps upon your senses? Oh it drives me MENTAL. There in the comfort of absolute oblivion with out knowing anything of the outside world you live in a place your your own making. I hate waking up on days like this. I think it would be easier if only i could remember these dreams, having them to revel over during the day, its why I used to set my alarm to ring in the middle of the night, if you wake up abrutly you remember your dream better, instead of that slow, slipping awakening our boddies treasure...god. I mean really why are dreams so perfect? If horrorscopes and dreams were right I'd be beating men away with sticks and probably married!!!
~Kitty

But then again....I might also have an elephant

P.s so I must go have a gander at what my dreams mean, and well, part of the dream was I was sitting on the stairs with a guy, he was behind me i was leaning on his knees and he was massaging my shoulder (keep your minds clean my little bunnies, we were both fully clothed. I had just gotten back from a train station and goodness knows cattle class makes you tense) so I looked up what massage in a dream could mean and tada!:

Massage
To dream that you are getting a massage, suggests that you lack sensual stimulation in your waking life - you are aching for someone to cuddle. You may also need to take better care of your body. This dream also represents nurturance and comfort

Pretty much yea...im a lonly old spinster with a cat...(See george) and did i mention I crochet?? Come gettum boys *winks and drops shirt to show shoulder" rawwrr

A Page at a Time

2008-04-18T06:32:00.000-07:00

In grade 10 I took a media arts class with my bestfriend Abbi. There was a lot of chatting, working on this or that project but the writer in me could not sit there infront of a computer and not write something. I was not the visual artist, that was Abbi, she can draw briliantly and very creativly and she was often helping me to fix my mistakes and as I wrote and bugged her to read she caught the bugg and started too....I love my sharing :D So there we were two kids writing away! I was able to write one of my best short stories during this period and got a bit started on a sequel but sometimes I wrote the random ideas down. I had quiet a few ranging from a page to 3 and this was one of my favorites, it was only a page and I deffinatly could have continued but it felt like a good short story and I was happy with it. Its kinda like that writing exercise you do when you write a story with only 50 words, very fun. I've thought when naming a character its very important to look at what the name means or coud mean. So here it is! Enjoy!!
Your sharing bunny!
~Kitty

Living in a Name

Mada leaned against the door post, of the door to the roof, just watching me. I loved coming here but tonight had been so different. She let out a sigh and came over. She sat down on the rough blankets and threw her arms around me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Cory.” I felt her sit back and cross her legs, leaving one arm on around my shoulders and the other resting lightly on my arm, “It was supposed to go over so well, it’s just because of what they’re doing to us, not to you. I turned to look at her, she had called me Cory, and Mada never did that.
“Cory?” I asked her, “Since when have I been Cory to you?” she smiles at me, mischief flowing in her veins and shinning in her eyes.
“Now, is a time that you need to be who you are and not who we imagined you to be, you have to show him that you can live up to a name that isn’t yours as well as your own.” She put her hand under my chin and looked at me, “I called you Cantara, when I learned how my brother loved you, it means small bridge, because that’s what you are, you are trying to bridge the gap between our worlds.
“Do you know what Cory means?” I watch her shake her head, I look down at my lap again. “It means hollow, empty. My father named me because I was to be the last of his children and he had one son, who was lame and sickly. My life was to be like his, empty and hollow, he told me that, right before he sent me to be Nara’s servant.” I felt Mada reach into my lap and take hold of my hand.
“Then we are even more sisters than I thought us to be. My mother named me Mada, which, in Arabic means ‘the end of the path’ she said I would be the last of her children, and I would be the end of my fathers love for her.” She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sky as a breeze blew our way, “You are not hollow Cory, and I was not the end of a path, not every thing is written in our name.” She turned back to me, let go of my hand and kissed my cheek, “think before you forsake my brother.” She got up and left, Mada was the beginning of my path over and over again, how could her name mean the end?

Baby Mama?

2008-04-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

So the adds have been on tv and the movie will be out soon and so I have questions about it. Surragacy. Putting eggs/sperm in another woman to carry your child and then give it back. I started talking about this wiht my pal the Peach, (check out my plugs for her blog) about this and she said Hold it! and go write a blog!! So here I am. She herself is a feminist, I am not too much of anything really, and don't even claim to understand femminism but am begining to glance a bit of what it is about. So my question: would you ever use a surragate or would you be one? Its techincally illigal in most states and provinces since you can't pay the surrogate and it's all under the table but it helps many women who are unable to carry their own child and the women who carry these longed-for children? they have often completed their families and enjoy being pregnant and want to share the gift of life. A child is probably one of the biggist things that I plan for in my life, I have always felt and always feel that deep longing to dive into motherhood (when my time is right of course, and I am able to provide support) and yet I may not be able to fulfill this myself (hush now you who know how reproduction works). I'm not worried about talking about private things, its not that big adeal to me to put it simply: I'm missing an overy. and other problems i won't go into detail on have led to many lines of "well, you might have trouble conciving" and all have broken my heart. I know how odd is this some 19 year old girl is back in the dark ages waiting to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. WRONG i want a life, a career but i also cannot deny that whole maternal thing. I would deffinatly turn to a surogate if all else failed and if i myself was a fertile mertle (and not a woss for pain and needles, goodness knows how ill survive childbirth *rolls eyes*) and I thought I could bare to part with a precious little bundle of spit that i had carried for 9 months i would totaly help others in their campaign for parenthood.....just some thoughts....what would you do? what do you think? Someone PLEASE comment so I know somebody reads this thing!!!!
~Kitty
P.S I am sorry for all of my bad spelling :P

The odd things we think and then remember...

2008-04-15T08:33:00.001-07:00

When I was growing up overseas we lived on compounds, groups of houses surrounded by walls, self contained towns. Not all the houses on the compounds were the same, some had different style houses: bungalows, two stories, wide rooms, open concepts like any houses here. I often stayed at my best friends house, Ithilote, she live on a compound in a house with large rooms in a comfortable arrangement and on the second floor there was a large square place which the rooms were placed around, it was there we would fold the blankets after a sleep over or would pass through to get to her room or our many snack runs to the kitchen. I loved her house, not only the fact that she was there, and we shared one of the most natural companionships I have know in my life, but the lay out of the house and the feeling i got standing on that carpeted landing infront of all the rooms. It was there that for some odd reason, I could see myself (obviously with by beau of the time) living in this house and raising children. Children who have always been a part of my life and one of my biggest dreams. And its looking back that for the first time I could imagine actually having children and seeing them run around the house and hearing an almost echo of words. I always knew i would have them, i want them badly enough its just a matter of when but it was very odd to imagine and for a second if not less, be in the moment of seeing them run...it its strange what you can remember from one silly picture. It wasnt even a picture of my mate or her house, it was picture of my dog when she was a puppy, i was a young girl and don't remember it but all of a sudden i thought of my friends house and can remember picturing a young pup around the little ones....
~Kitty

Woot!!

2008-04-10T13:49:00.000-07:00

Something exciting is in the wind! I currently have a job offer to go and work in Colorado, (over the border from my nice cold Canada) at a camp for the deaf and hard of hearing. Its been a long time getting to the point of an interview, and things have moved slowly but now that its here and soon I can't believe soon I might be moving away from home for the first time and working!! It would be tons of fun and I can't wait to travel again!! But then again I've had to get a video phone (just a tad expensive) but I'm sure it will all be worth it. So here's hoping!!
~Kitty

Alas!!

2008-04-08T15:18:00.000-07:00

I miss the dotts but hey, we'll try a change so i'm not stealing more than need be, hoping for things to be peachy keen :)
~Kitty

Sweeney Todd!!

2008-04-07T15:12:00.000-07:00

OK so i saw Sweeney Todd a few days ago and thought it was smashing!! so i was putzing around the internet and found the offical website and you can make your own tralior!! I made this!!
~Kitty

http://www.sweeneytoddmovie.com/mashup/show.php?id=30777

2008-04-06T17:40:00.000-07:00

Heres the last one...i hope someone enjoys them, in their love-torn sorrow
-Kitty

This Circus Ride

Won’t you fall away,
Dip, slip away
Leave these chains
These corridors of yesterday
Find that long
Forgotten stardust
It’s comin round
Don’t let it, as your dreams fall down
Crush that flying life within
While we walk this tight rope
Our long well meant manoeuvres,
How do we cope
With our endless “last” chances
As we pace these endless acts
Swing from these old songs
How many have we sung?
We’ve never really won
As we tumble through these rings out of old formalities
I hang from this trapeze
You have slung with such familiar ease
Falling slowly, quickly I twirl
These colors dripping, swirling as they curl
Crying like forgotten pyres
The endless motion of our fires
Are we ready for this dive?
This running while we hide?
Is there no time to show
That sparkling glitter of our
Last, long winded, whispered song?

2008-04-06T17:29:00.000-07:00

I often use the idea of songs in my poems because I don't believe they can be broken or die, they're always evolving and changing!
-Kitty

Broken Lyrics

What do we do with a song lying broken
The melody faded
The words oh so jaded
It doesn’t mean what we thought it should
What we thought it always would be
What do we do with this empty creation
I weep for this unsung song
I dreamed of melodies
And you thought of practicalities
With that our song slipped away
And now I feel broken
My fears lying open
A music box that just won’t play
I twist in the pins and I will them to hum
Though no begging will coax them to turn
Yet I can paste it together
Weave a new melody
Patch up broken lines in a new way
You can carve a new box
To carry our tune
Won`t be as it was, but it`s ours all the same
And these new desires will burn out our failures
We can dance to our song all our days....

A Poem

2008-04-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

I love to share my poetry, something I am always at, I would love ppl to tell me what they think!! i have hundreds but i'll start with a few of my recent ones and we'll see how it goes!!
-Kitty

Of Moments and Broken Dreams

And you say when I'm broken

I'm beautiful

That you love bringing me back to myself

Sticking back smiles and pulling stray sorrows

From this failing thing I call my life

And what is this thought

Of a moment out of time

When you're only your own

And I'm only mine

No promises of carless words

Falling between us like broken hearts I've known

Will you listen to my words

And not seek beneath

Take me at face value

Whisper me to sleep

I need your shoulder to rest my heart on

My sleeves are too bloody to show true

Long ago I dreamed you

Long ago you fell

To the realm of dreams

I grew up on, gave up on as well

I've spilt these tears in hopes

Of a day they'll run dry

In the worries of waiting,

I look to the sky

One day they'll find me

Strong in their lacking

I'll have found my fairytale

Formed of once broken memories

Taped with your smiles

That I will call my own.

For the love of goodness!

2008-04-06T13:29:00.000-07:00

so their at it again, those ppl who think they can walk all over you just because you're scrapping up a living on minimum wage...so i go to ask for days this summer until a better things comes along (not telling them that of course) but no, days are for day staff and college/uni students who GO AWAY ALL YEAR. im there all year and do you think i can get days?? do sheep talk the queens english to llammas?? i highly doubt it! Aye me. Alas, oh woe. gah. on a positive note, Sweent Todd is an awsome movie!! oh its halarious, oh stalkers and lots of blood, a great movie for sure (like id know :P) oh well, enjoy your day random ppl who wonder here!!
-Kitty

2008-04-04T10:41:00.000-07:00

It is very strange to think, and this is the time of year that this always happens to me, that so much has happened and that i have come so far. It is now that i begin to think: 5 years ago i was in egypt and madly in love. It's a simple statment. strange to think that 5 years ago i was 14 and longing away on a small cruse ship on the nile for a love that would never be returned that none the less drove my existance. And now, when the rain falls and i allow myself to drift into memories and hold myself strong without tears i look back and feel helpless. how strange. Its odd to no longer be tied down by such a thing and to be free to roam and lend my heart to what ever fancy it feels to follow and then i wonder if the love is not returned wasnt i really only tied down by myself? and as needlessly as it may have been i bloomed and flourshed in every raincloud and soggy poem that dripped from my own knots...hmm. i never promised my rants would make sense.....but i do think i miss being in a love, even one sided as it was...
-Kitty.

A Favorite Poem From Lovers and Other Strangers

2008-04-03T17:42:00.000-07:00

I love this radio show, with Don Jhonson i belive, and its on from 9-11 on 98.1 i think, and its beautiful i had to write him to find this poem, but i have always loved how true these lines ring when wishing for the truth of love...

And we're off?

2008-04-03T17:35:00.001-07:00

So i'll give this a try and bring out my inner blogger, my words will not always be as beautiful and poetic as they are in my head, the spelling will some times lack all that could be desired. But it'll be a laugh and a place for me to share....oo i love to share....and so with that we head to the flame and discover the beauty in falling that most over look for flying....

-Kitty