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wBillieupool |
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Hi.
My name is Kate.
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wTuesday, May 07, 2002 |
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Here at the end of it all (for three months, you understand, because I'm leaving to work at my camps tomorrow) I'm at a complete loss for anything relevant to say about who I've been these past two semesters.
Only, I try to write nice things sometimes. And sometimes I do.
Thank you for visiting billieupool. Please close the door on your way out.
posted by
Kate at 1:27 AM
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wMonday, May 06, 2002 |
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Also, I'm severely jacked up on M&Ms and Coca-cola right now, so a bit of self congratulation:
Three of my poems will appear in the Alabama Literary Review this summer.
And I'm excited.
And I still have one poem forthcoming in Cicada.
And I'm excited.
And I have one review of a book of poems forthcoming in North Carolina's Our State.
And many moneys more than I deserve from all three.
This should bring my total net worth this year as a writer to, um...approximately $300.
:-)
posted by
Kate at 1:21 AM
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So...
Here I am, staring into the abyss that is my summer vacation, when I realize that the logic of perceiving the next three months as a period of static dead time to rush through as quickly as possible is faulty to a, well, fault. I live viscerally through college, through my friends, through a systematic and structured process of learning, through the constant pressure to write, but come summer it all falls apart. That rug of familiarity is always yanked from under my feet, and I die slightly for a few months. Here it stops. I refuse to live like a zombie during the coming summer.
And by the way no Oxford. It fell through at the last moment. Instead, I might find myself in New York for a week or so. Which would be quite wonderful, actually.
I hate this part. This is when I start saying goodbye to you. I try not to get attached, but this time I did for reasons that snuck up on me, quietly in bedside confessionals, or during escapades in Montgomery, frisbee and ice-skating and buffet pizza places and Lord of the Rings until I wanted to barf, or in broad daylight adventure rompings, forests of rocks and rolling sand dune wildernesses and flat pine tree-forested trail blazings, or in bright swirling colors of dim-lit parties, cheap wine and The Osbournes, inexplicable bruises and the naughty evidence of occasional overindulgences stamped on our rear ends the next morning, in afro-puff hair, in bawdy water gun fights, in volleyball mishaps, in fabricated war stories and fabricated worlds, in boy problems, in more boy problems, in mountain top revelations, in Napster sing-a-longs, in Saga horrors, in gum propelled wastebasket targetings, in teacher crushings, in unfortunate hugging incidents, in fortunate hugging incidents, in a few hospital visits here and there...and those damn fruit flies.
Chicken Soup for Kate's Heart. Sorry about all the fuss.
posted by
Kate at 12:56 AM
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wWednesday, May 01, 2002 |
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Last Night = Big Party
Today = Dead Day
Tomorrow = Three Final Exams
Right Now = Sniffing Crack
No, I Mean, Right Now = I Feel Like I'm Sniffing Crack
Status = Death By Stress and Too Much Fun (flatline)
posted by
Kate at 11:28 PM
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