My friends are so clever; last night we had a Sweeney Todd party. One of my best mates was the host, and naturally she was Mrs. Lovett. She slaved over a hot oven and made our party delectable meat pies. (I had actor!) The guest list consited of: Mrs. Lovett (host), Sweeney Todd (myself), Judge Turpin, Johanna, Toby 1, Toby 2, Pirelli, Beedle Banford and several noncostumed ones. The main point of this entry is to show off our fabulous outfits :>
I’m sorry David Ives, I’ve just cooned one of your play titles for my virtual literary endeavor. Please forgive me someday; I’ll work on sending a fruitbasket. (I think fruitbasket should be one word. No one uses it as two.)
So I regret to inform anyone who happened to read this little blog in the past seventeen months (that’s how long I’ve been away) that I totally and complete forgot this little space existed. See, this is why I should never have children. I can’t remember to update a blog, therefore I can’t remember to feed a bald and needy organism. Thankfully, children are not exactly on my To-Do list.
Its been seventeen months and I’m better than ever. I think I’ve said more witty things in the past year than anyone could possibly wrap their head around. I’m some sort of comical genius, although said genius has yet to be recognized by anyone but my parents. Let me share with you just how much of a genius I am.
I don’t mean to boast (actually, I do,) but I’ve been accepted to Lewis and Clark College up in Portland Oregon. Yes, I, Kat, will embark on a college-ly journey in just a few short months. I plan to spread my philosophies and lifestyle to the masses of Portland, and soon enough I will have a cult following–or at least four new friends. I’ll take what I can get.
Here I go throwing myself into the virtual world of blogging. I feel as if I’m not actually diving head first, or dipping my big toe in to test the waters. It’s more like climbing the high jump and flinging my body from the white board, flailing and thrashing as I fall, and splatting against the water in full belly-flop glory. I’m no expert on graceful landings, but I know just how to get the crowd talking. Creating a splash is more rewarding, exhilerating, and simply better than wasting away my teenage years with water wings and floating ponies. I don’t need noodles to keep me afloat.
…I also don’t need cheesy metaphors to get my point across either. The fact of the matter is that with all the strangely humorous thoughts going inside my head, I might as well put them down on a higher form of paper. It’s not about spreading like wildfire through the internet, but getting someone to listen and giggle, and maybe remember what they read ten minutes later, I don’t feel as if I’m the average young lady at sixteen. No one ever admits they are actually average, though. Maybe I am average, or maybe I’m above average. Either way, my words are not meant for my poor little mind alone. It gets enough rambling daily.
