| prefer to take the chicken buses |
[24 Mar 2009|06:39pm] |
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Dear little Livejournal community,
I have to admit that I have abandoned you a bit. Im currently in the Western Highlands of Guatemala, came over this way from Oaxaca and Chiapas in southern Mexico. Ive opted instead to use a travel blog because it has a little map that follows me around.
Anyway, you are welcome to it:
www.mytb.org/tomarelsol
Love,
Kaitlin
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| yesterday i |
[26 Sep 2008|03:27pm] |
sold my car to a woman who wanted to see her grandkids in redding more often.
today i rode home on my red bajaj chetak.
this morning i helped open up the coffee shop.
tomorrow ill work in the fair trade childrens clothing boutique.
then we are having a potluck at my house.
sunday i go on a day trip to the warm part of the county to see waterfalls and josh's favorite river.
then ill watch repo man with the bikey best bud and company.
monday i will sit in on the political economy course and table for the two city council campaigns im helpin run.
tuesday i will go make food at a raw food restaurant and help them write their business plan.
wednesday i will trade pink bicycles (and ride) with the bearded boy at henderson center cycles.
thursday i might give in and call to see how trevor is doing. and then ill go to restorative yoga.
friday i will drop of 3 letters of rec. at the county of education office and attend the 'democrat of the year' dinner.
before the weekend i hope to get called back for a second interview at cypress grove chevre.
and maybe i'll figure out what to invest my car money in.
and really thats what life is like right now.
my knees are working for now, and i really appreciate that more then i ever imagined i would.
everythings a whirlwind and its feels impermanent and perfect.
i was so glad i went home for the memorial last weekend. driving home after a weekend of hard work, good friends and supportive family was a huge sweeping relief. im more settled, far more grounded today then before.
noah just moved to hawaii to manage an organic farm, he's asked me to come work.
amazing amazing amazing.
ive had so much trouble staying still these past four years, and its made all the difference.
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| the boy on the blue bike |
[23 Jun 2008|07:06pm] |
hiding away in the hills of santa barbara we couldn't escape it-the heat was stifling. even more than that, the inevitability of last night had been suffocating us for days. i've never experienced this before. i've never left someone behind strictly out of circumstance. today it slowly started sinking in that we were'nt just taking a vacation from each other, and that yesterday was really goodbye. just like it was with humboldt, when arcata didn't really seem gone until simi valley finally sunk in. the past eight months have been amazing and colorful, and i know core d'alene, idaho and spokane, washington will never be quite the same.
on the road, after the tears stopped falling, i took a deep breath in and as i exhaled i realized the immediate possibilities of the next few weeks. my veins have been buzzing and pulsing with fear and excitement all day. tomorrow is a big step into the wide world and im taking it all by myself. young and unattached, im leaving for denver.
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| don't tell me how great things will be...someday. |
[19 Jan 2008|11:09am] |
when i hear "i just can't wait to see all the great things you're going to accomplish," all i want to say is "yeah, me too," and sit back and let life do all the work. because sometimes when i'm washing the dishes, i drop a knife and, without thinking, try to catch it by the blade. sometimes i cut my bangs with my eyes closed. sometimes i guilt my roommates for turning on the heater, but then i leave it on for awhile after they go to sleep. sometimes instead of working on my personal statement, i sit on the floor with a glass filled with colorful chalk and make art on my closet doors. and when my best friend left my house for the last time, i smiled and hugged like i'd see him tomorrow, closed the door, and collapsed on the floor by myself and melted into a teary and inaudible mess of emotion because sometimes, many times, i don't show myself to the people i care about the most. when i get weighed down with the expectations of the people i love, it feels like i'm just too much of a person, just like everyone else, to carry myself to that glorified future.
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| it is not enough, it is not enough |
[10 Apr 2007|10:36pm] |
i had only ever seen overturned vehicles corroding beneath dilapidated houses on the news, far removed from perceived reality, until today. it is not a place you want to remember so much as you need to know, and in this way it is tourism. i couldn't take a single photograph, i had a hard enough time getting out of our van, but i still wanted to see all the ones the others had taken (we agreed you couldn't feel it in the photo). we tried to imagine what the first surge was like, we tried to wrap our minds around water that deep, homes that float away, leaving their front steps behind, and beds that exit through windows, but we really couldn't. so we sat in the van, bumping along the pavement, watching the wreckage that is far too fucking old to not be taken care of, by someone, somewhere, like us (like anyone). we all said out loud that it must have been such a helpless feeling watching the water rise, creeping up to your toes, with nothing to save you, but im pretty sure we can't really know.
the first day we ripped shingles off of houses, replaced foundation boards, and let the flowers in the garden breathe once we found them underneath some dead vines and garbage. we took pictures of a land rover parked in the street, marked with burns from the night before, just sitting, waiting, for no one to clean it up, in front of the elementary school, in front of the nothing houses filled with no one.
today we stood in the rain and dug holes in the mud, sawed wood into correct sizes, painted murals, and met a women who misses her family who moved to palm springs after the storm, after the wreckage, because they can't come back, they won't.
this afternoon, back at the house from the first day, the one with the garden and no front door, there was a shooting out front. our volunteers had to go home, pack up and leave, but they're going back tomorrow, because the foundation has to be replaced, and nobody else is going to do it.
right now i feel like we're chipping away at something looming and overwhelming, but it has to be done, and over time, it improves, it really counts, all that these people do, what they live for when they're here. it feels like starting a new playground or gutting a house is so small compared to all of these empty lots and the spray paint indicators still stuck to the homes from the searches after the flood, marking an X for checked and 0 for no one found (or as in half the time, the number of those found inside, sometimes weeks after), but i know that over time it matters.
i'm feeling pretty lonely here, although surrounded by wonderful people, and i just really want to stay, for months at a time, i want to stay.
( i'm not sure it's appropriate, but i know it's important. the ninth ward. )
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| i fill my life up with time. asleep in the vine. |
[26 Jan 2006|07:00pm] |
| [ |
music |
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a song called infatuation |
] |
 
we made it back. just on time. the community involvement center has taken up the majority of my time these past two days, leaving me exhausted once i return home. i've been carrying around a soft smile. i don't know how to put things into words right now, but i promise i will soon.
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| at least drinking alcohol isnt as bad as eating dairy ...or bread. |
[20 Jan 2006|07:38pm] |
read all of this...i promise it's interesting
we made it to portland!
our friends drove us to a popular rest stop, them in the truck cab and us in the bed->( comfort )
we hitched a ride with a sweet russian man named michael-> ( tough truck all smiles )
the ride was beautiful. i rode shotgun while zack slept on the bed in the back. i took soo many pictures it's too difficult to choose which ones to put on here.
( vroom vroom ! we're bigger than you!! )
when we arrived in portland, we walked across a bridge and pretty far before someone told us that we'd walked the wrong direction and that the theatre was back across the bridge we'd already crossed, but then..."my wife and i will give you a ride to the theatre! it's no problem." fucking washington...its unbelievable.
we arrived at the washington theatre to this sign: "colin meloy tonight! SOLD OUT" ...and in response to that i laughed...perhaps a little too loud, tossed my bags on the ground and took a seat on them repeating phrases such as "awesome!" and "woohoo!" and "super!"
i decided to get out a book and start reading, while zack decided to take off around the corner without explanation. so sitting outside alone two and a half hours before the show, i dove right into "bee season" by myla goldberg....you know...like the book that "song for myla goldberg" by the decemberists is about. then colin meloy came outside ..and looked down at me reading the book and smiled big to himself and went to a chinese place for food.
my heart jumped out of my chest too quickly for me to register the situation and how great it was that mr. meloy was two feet from my face smiling, so i just looked down at my book and continued reading (looking like a big creepy obsessive fan for reading it outside his show).
then zack came around the corner carrying a large piece of broken wood which had obviously come from a decaying piano.
and he said..."this will be what we write our sign on" and handed me paint. what a brilliant idea !
and so i painted...and this was the product of my labor:
( we are vagrants )
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| We are vagabonds, we travel without seatbelts on |
[18 Jan 2006|05:22pm] |
and live ( this ) close to death.
it took a lot of buses and walking, but we stayed the night in olympia, and i suppose that is the plan for tonight as well.
via buses and strangers' cars we're finding our way to portland tomorrow to see colin meloy perform in his hometown.
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[17 Jan 2006|03:10pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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exhausted and content |
] |
| [ |
music |
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public internet space typing sounds |
] |
jazelin (from victoria), zack, and i drove in a rental car provided by a canadian craigslist friend, from ten in the morning yesterday until three in the morning today to get to canada. outside of dinner in portland, it was a fairly continuous drive. and then at the border, canada kicked us out! our two canadian travelling partners got to continue into vancouver while zack and i had to plead with the u.s. to let us back in so that we wouldn't have to pitch tents in the two feet of countryless land between the canadian and u.s. customs offices.
im sitting in an amazing library in seattle ("the city of the future!"). it's eleven stories and i love it. we've been hopping different buses since 4 this morning, working our way down washington (which has an amazing transit system and for some reason espresso kiosks on almost every corner in the state). we had breakfast in bellingham and caught various buses all over the place until we arrived here. after busking enough to afford a bus ticket to olympia, we're catching a bus to there and staying the night...after that, i have no idea.
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| if you think that you're strong enough |
[08 Jan 2006|11:27pm] |
| [ |
music |
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fake plastic trees |
] |
i used to be so motivated to write in here and now it's a once-in-a-while obligation. i'll be glad that i kept up with it one day when i want to turn back to my digital history and figure out how everything got to where it will be.
right now the space heater is warming up the apartment so that the air mattress is warm enough on the ground to sleep on peacefully. my hands are freezing but my coffee is perfect and radiohead is keeping me company. i've been writing emails and drearily reminiscing in some sort of twisted nostalgic state over the way things have become the way they are.
it's so strange how there are two different rhythms of life i've trained myself to participate in. the bay area dances to one beat while southern california marches to its own. every time i go to simi valley for a visit it takes a full week to get back into the swing of our northern tune. once i find the groove into which i fit, i am completely content, but for the seven days prior to that i faintly swim around fishing for some sort of meaning onto which i can meekly hold. i've grown more accustomed to forcing myself to realize the impermanence of my wishful ties and bonds back home. ties to all those people i wish i could hold onto forever, but with whom i can only keep in slight contact. i vaguely pound away my good wishes and fleeting feelings in phone pads and dialtones, but the proceeding silences are progressively losing more depth and weight. it seems that the people i wanted to keep in my life have realized they can't be kept and have taken the proper measures to ensure we all move on, and yet neither they nor i truly realize what that means for the future. i'm preparing myself, attempting to understand the reasoning behind such measures, and taking deep breaths to avoid taking anything too personally.
there is no need to keep a guarded heart. i have met so many people, smiled at so many hopeful strangers, and been shown completely new perspectives too often to doubt the availability of love and kindness which has made itself so abundant up here.
we're leaving for canada, if all goes well, on the 13th.
with limited supplies and excited pounding hearts we're hitting the road.
wish us luck.
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| attempting to kill off the ambiguity...finiculi finicula |
[17 Dec 2005|02:18pm] |
| [ |
music |
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alicia keys ...fallin' .. yeah. |
] |
We had discussed much earlier that we both wanted to get away. Far far away, but not too too far. She got a ticket and I hesitated, changed my mind, and felt both jealous and disappointed all over,
up until two nights before the trip, when I decided it was time to take off, just for a short while. I had always wanted to be there in the winter, in the city snow, but I tend to list off complications and masochistically keep myself all jarred up and ready to explode with curiosity over the world and its happenings, with no intention of ever taking part. Not this time!
When the plane landed, I had already taken a good forty-six pictures and had suddenly realized that flying to Queens by myself might make it difficult to find my way to midtown Manhattan at nighttime all alone, unless you count my rolly suitcase which was big enough to be another person. It took two and a half hours, but I made it, earlier than my accomplices, and shivered in the stoop of our Hell's Kitchen weekend residence, two steps from Times Square and three from Central Park (maybe a few more). Once Sy and Kirsten arrived, we went too many places to name or number, and I learned the hard way that ballet slippers don't work in New York the way they do in San Francisco. I have never been so cold for so long in my life, but it was well worth it. That night we saw the first snowfall of the season, and I experienced my first look at real-life white white city snow. The rest of the weekend was full of walking, dancing, dressing up, powdering faces, rolling eyes, eating [amazing food], "The Best Cupcakes in the World-Zagat Rated", tourism, snowfights, laughter, subway rats, historically incorrect subway murals, beautiful pretend husbands (remember how he appeared in all different places and angles four times in twenty minutes?), Christmas...everywhere, light shows, more eating [amazing food], no sleep, Chicago accents with their talks of yen and socially-reinforced racism, slippery sidewalks and salted heels, early early morning/late late evening diner talks and thievery, genuine smiles, Decemberists hummings, and the decision to never stay put. By the end of it, we had decided that we could very well live and travel peacably, even joyously, together, and I decided to from then on secretly refer to my new roommate as Kirsticakes. I never really thought we would do or see so much in two days, and I have absolutely no regrets.
( Myla Goldberg set a steady hand upon her brow, Myla Goldberg hangs a crooked foot all upside-down )
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| i'll bake you muffins |
[08 Dec 2005|06:32am] |
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Why does holding hands feel so right?
Got a bruise on my pinky finger from holdin' too tight.
where did this early mornings minutes fall to? i dropped them somewhere in between midnight and four-thirty a.m.
i think you found them, stole them away deservedly, and filled them with inspiration.
well thank you, i think that i could not have done anything nearly as necessary as all that happened to be
in only 270 minutes of time tick tick ticking away...
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[01 Dec 2005|05:46pm] |
I'm having an "I quit!" party this weekend in New York City.
Last paycheck...$520:
Plane ticket....$355
Room and board...free
New warm wool coat, knee high stockings, mittens, and ear muffs...$65
Spending money...$100
Dear UCSF Aquatics Department,
thanks a bunch,
now fuck off.
♥,
Kaitlin
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| piety is my night's adjective |
[17 Nov 2005|12:57am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 etherized |
] |
| [ |
music |
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the pogues |
] |
"ach,ach, liebling,
my veins are pulsing with nothing short of ignited catalysts.
these vital organs we donate
so readily to ask fulfillment in return
have lost their way,
and in going astray have dissipated in jealousy's ashes."
--cut cut---
"ach, ach, liebling,
your arms shield sensible thought,
causing my will to deceive my reason.
common evil resides in whispers frequenting my ears,
and they are welcomed,
acknowledged as kindred."
( One day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea, but for now we are young, let us lie in the sun and count every beautiful thing that we see )
Anyway, that's how I feel right now.
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| the kids of today should defend themselves against the '70s. |
[01 Jul 2005|01:22am] |
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after two and half weeks in the apartment baking cookies, sewing drapes, cleaning, and crafting, my last few days turned up a post-productive plateau of lounging-lazy moods in a heatless garage-connected apartment, decked down on four sides by grey skies and late sunsets. lonely cigarette breaks and sneaky spiders turned me to late night/early morning scheduled talks over the internet, which led to this little trip. with my resume turned in to the CIC VIPD and my motivation and creativity idling, i woke up at 8 pm wednesday evening in a daze. adorning socks, slippers, pants, thermals, sweatshirt, jacket, beanie, and gloves i lounged around the living room with books, piano keys, and terrible films. then the offer came about and sounded beautiful, so i packed my bag, jeff took the couch, and by 6 am we were driving to oakland. the blanket clouds still tucked downtown into rest from the night before, save for the peaking of a few restless skyscraping heads. i was on my plane soon enough, with bad coffee and a good novel. and now home. a short two day stop and i'll be back in san francisco. its a quick breath of air before a long dive. this is the one-day check check check. so many flowers and sweet smells, gentlemenly manners and hours compelled to linger. here are one of those moments of recognition that always fade in profundity within the day: i might question my old structures, second guess my history, betray my emotions with contradictions, and sing the right words at the wrong times during the perfect songs, but i can still be compelled and compelling.
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| liberte ou la mort |
[05 Jun 2005|12:37pm] |
the mars volta basically conquered the greek theatre last night.
( +5 )
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| you're Sebastian now, deal with it |
[21 May 2005|12:00am] |
| [ |
mood |
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studious |
] |
| [ |
music |
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they let lisa go blind, let lisa go blind |
] |
according to the roomate, this weekend is the "craziest party weekend". well, everyone missed out, because the real party was at the library.
finals study night '05 with joseph.
it's been nothing except essays and volunteering for a week now, when this is all over, i'll finally sleep.
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[19 May 2005|02:06am] |
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I just spent a good hour flipping through my old livejournal and photobucket account. This would typically be a time that I'd become wrapped up in nostalgia, but right now's a pretty great time to be alive. So since the present is going to be one of those memories I look back on in the future and wish to relive, I would rather just be terribly excited that I'm a part of it now.
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deinekleinefrau's journal