My favorite part of this? How much bigger Lois’s thighs are as a black woman.
WHAT
keeping a notebook
'why did I write it down? in order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it i wanted to remember? how much of it actually happened? did any of it? why do i keep a notebook at all?'
joan didion
here is my half finished muxtape. it is full of old songs because i do not know any new ones.
here is my goodreads.
talk to me.
joan didion
here is my half finished muxtape. it is full of old songs because i do not know any new ones.
here is my goodreads.
talk to me.
May 14
“ Steph—dumb, but fun & nice
—
My journal notes on Stephanie Pratt, 11 July 2003.
(I know I am the worst person of all time, but just to reinforce that, my notes on myself were: ‘Katie—bomb’.)
And this is the last thing I will say about my marginal acquaintance with Stephanie Pratt.
ANNOUNCEMENT.
I KNEW STEPHANIE PRATT IN HIGH SCHOOL, which I just realized during happy hour this evening. We went on rich kids’ summer program in Paris together. However, she is actually rich and I only shop at Target and Old Navy. I had known wealthy people before then and I have known wealthy people since, but Stephanie was the kind of obscenely rich that I haven’t otherwise encountered. It seemed to put her in an entirely different class of person, and not because she was particularly trying to flash it around.
She came with a friend from LA named Sally who was much smarter/cooler so Stephanie was kind of the sidekick. At rich European summer camp you take two class, your ‘major’ and your ‘minor’, and all three of us ‘majored’ in Paris and the Avant Garde. Although I don’t remember her well, my impression is that she was a very friendly and nice girl, but also super dumb/rich/gangly. Word on the street was that she did a fair amount of coke, but no judgment here. I did a fair amount of coke in college and Steph didn’t go to college (okay, she barely did).
One time, we went to this artist’s studio and he smoked a hand rolled cigarette in front of the class. Some girl from the Midwest was all, ‘I can’t believe he smoked pot in front of us’, and Stephanie and I laughed. She said, ‘If that was pot, we ALL would have known’, and I acted like I knew and agreed, though I don’t think I had ever actually smoked pot at that tender age of sixteen. (It also might have been Sally who said that, I don’t remember exactly.)
Is this my 15 minutes? Fuck. I’m going to try to find a picture I can scan in order to really milk this shit.
May 13
» Mysteries: Who's Stalking You On Facebook?
I’ve been obsessed by this all day. Mine:
- My roommate from when I lived Jordan whom I openly stalk on Facebook because she is bad at keeping in touch.
- This guy I met in India with whom I was soul-crushingly in love, but he was only marginally interested in me. I used to search him all the time, but now I’m over that now (well, not totally).
- A peripheral friend whom I want to make out with, but I don’t think I search that much.
- A friend from Jordan. Kinda random.
- A woman I was friends with in India. I also openly Facebook stalk her because she has a cool life in England.
So do all these people have crushes on me or what?
I just shaved my legs for the first time in months (literally).
And it’s cause I’m going to the gynocologist, not cause I’m getting laid or anything. I used to force myself not to shave my legs so I wouldn’t make slutty mistakes (though I always did anyway). How times have changed.
Last night's Gossip Girl.
I can never tell whether everyone else in the world is a lot stupider than I am (unlikely) or if TV shows just make people do the craziest things that even a person with the worst case of Generalized Anxiety Disorder would never do in real life (far more likely).
Same goes for Lost. You guys should all just get together, talk it out, and I think you’ll find that everyone will be better off. Christ.
The business of America is business.
I got a little ranty here, which I don’t ordinarily mind, but I’m extremely shaky this morning. I tried to go to bed at ten the other night and realized that I am no longer capable of doing that without the aid of heavy drink. I tossed and turned and kicked and groaned while my body was all, “What the fuck?” I remember how proud I was when I finally broke through the wall of serious drinking where excessive alcohol consumption no longer woke me up in the middle of the night; now, it’s apparently a precondition for falling asleep in the first place. I should probably review my lifestyle choices.
Hey, I don’t sleep either! Balk and I could stay up all night and talk. Or not talk. Talking and not talking.
May 12
I have no fucking idea how I came up with this, part II.
For some reason I always think Cormac McCarthy is Australian and The Road is about growing up in some small town in the outback.
“ The emancipated educated woman is untouchable; she acquires an asexual protected dignity which is the reserve of the closeness of the traditional woman to her body. Individually she either accepts this this situation or she attempts to enter the body of the woman who is still passive. As part of you leaps outside yourself, another part tries to reenter a self you have created in your own imagination. You make for yourself an image of suffering womanhood and let it bleed. You dwell continually on your female troubles. When you sleep with a man you enjoy him forcing you to submit. You are torn between shame and delight.
— Sheila Rowbotham in ‘Through the Looking Glass’ again. This piece is in my top three feminist writings. Rowbotham is an amazing writer and a fucking genius.
“ Men will often admit that other women are oppressed but not you. Well it was true in the past but not now, well yes they are in Liverpool but not in London.
— Sheila Rowbotham in ‘Through the Looking Glass’. I’m rereading some socialist feminism today.