Sublimated Narcissism
Tuesday, May 21, 2002
Beginnings are incredibly improtant and i think they reveal many otherwise hidden insights about character.
Actually that was all a bunch of hogwash. Today I want to write about my entrance into this world, there's really no reason why or no deeper meaning behind it. I just want to write it and sith this is my blog I have SUPREME POWER over content. so, my infancy....
Having had three sons before I was born, when the doctor told my marm he wasn't sure of my sex, she figured I would be a boy. That somewhat explains why they are 80% certain that my gender correlates with that of a male. Being fostered in the womb of a woman convinced of my masculinity deeply influenced my psyche I suppose.
I was a baby of immense proportions... so they decided on a c-section two weeks ahead of schedule.
An entrance marked by pain and anguish: Problem - the doctors only numbed my mother's first layers of skin; once they cut the initial layers.. she felt everything. So yes, my mother submerged my birth. All she remembers of that glorious day is a bunch of nurses grabbing her limbs and holding her down as she writhed in agony on the table. A doctor took her face between his hands and said," Hun, we have to finish this." Then she passed out from pain. She sprained her back during the procedure which caused her milk to taste sour. So I am the product of baby formula. This is most likely the source of all my physical / psychological problems, and most likely the reason I sucked my thumb until fifth grade despite all my mother's efforts to stop me.
Well, off to class.. sorry i can't proofread. also i want to write something about my hugeness as a newborn (eleven and a half pounds... I know... impressive)
katherine 1:35 PM
i'm a critical bitch and a mean person - don't ever talk to me
katherine 12:44 AM
Very Republican of Me
Which Firearm are you?
brought to you byStan Ryker
For those non-Republicans in the audience... some background
katherine 12:19 AM
Monday, May 20, 2002
Disclaimer: something different for Katherine
Before beginning, I feel it appropriate to indicate that right now I sit in Ackerman, typing on one of the communal computers. This is noteworthy sith before now I have limited blogging to the boundaries of my room only. Thus if I seem daft it must be the college campus environment of UCLA and the presence of the millions of buffoons who waste their evenings in this God-forsaken place (myself included) surrounding me. It is not any inadequacy stemming form myself.
Now to the purport of this blog
FUCK THE WHITE OPPRESSOR
Seems to be the theme of this week.
First incident of me becoming cognizant of the inadequacy of Western European descent: I go to the bathroom about three days ago. What a mundane statement, I apologize for my obvious insight... of course I went to the bathroom on Friday, it would be rather unhealthy if I did not. It serves only as a sloppy introduction of sorts for my content. Ah, Ode to the beauties of the dorm bathroom, especially the female dorm bathroom. It allows for such unwanted intimacy with those who surround and live near you. I always try to appear in a rush when I'm in there, so as to avoid the pleasantries of civil detached conversation - all bull-shit. Anyhow, the problem lies in the fact that although one can avoid participating in the conversation, one cannot help but hearing the conversation and vapid spoken prose of the college inhabitants. On this particular occassion the phrase that stands out in my mind, heard over the running water of the sink is, "Oh, my God, but how do you, like, define yourself as a human being when you're a fourth generation Armenian? I mean, like, how can you have.... like, I don't know... meaning..." The response appropriately was something along the lines of "Yeah, I know what you're saying...it's hard..." the conversation trailed off as I walked out the door, plummeting to the depths of awareness of my non-identity... suddenly lost, without definition of myself as a person. Shit, being a fourth generation French, Hispanic, English and Irish mut, how in the hell can I possibly have a definition of self, an identity, how in the hell can I resist the urge to commit suicide because of my definitive dearth of culture and being?
Incident 2... Pilipino Culture Night... aka Nazi propaganda film. But right now I'm going to have to leave the computer and allow someone else to waste their life away here as I return to Ballroom Dancing. To be finished at a later date.
katherine 9:43 PM
Life is nothing more than a quick succession of busy nothings
katherine 8:29 AM
Tuesday, May 14, 2002
OK, I know this doesn't really count... but it's just to get my "juices flowing"
Glory, why does everything have to be so sexual with you?
If I were in a movie, I'd be a funny sidekick!
Take the Movie Quiz now!
created by Brooke.
katherine 3:57 PM
Thursday, May 09, 2002
(Katherine + Massive amounts of extra time after finishing her last midterm + Google)*Infinite Immaturity = Things like this
katherine 6:47 PM
Monday, May 06, 2002
Comments by: YACCS
The last ten minutes of every class are entirely pointless...
I try to pay attention, but really, I'm so close to freedom that any concentration is utterly futile. Once I realize that I have spent five minutes daydreaming I'm too far behind the progression of thought to even hope to catch up on what I missed... so the best plan is really just to give up all together.
Some fun things my Ethics Professor, Lottenbach, says in class (ahh, the Swiss... but you must think of these things as being said in a thick German accent by a 6'4" skinny man with a pony tail): Refers to epistemology as "rubbish" and "completely ridiculous." Talks about neuroscience as "brain worship... oooh...The Brain" while a skeptic would think of the brain as "goo hidden by the cranium... because it's disgusting." When talking of Montaigne's writings of the presumption of man that the sun is merely a "middle class star in a run of the mill galaxy."
I really don't have anything terribly interesting to write. Been doing many things trying to keep myself away from the boredom that inevitably results in depression. I've taken nearly every test that this place offers when avoiding my studies and papers. Side note: "They" are 80% certain that I am a man, and 40% certain that I'm gay...so do the two combined negate each other and turn me back into a straight female? Ballroom Dance is really the only fun thing I'm involved in on campus.. last night was Tango and Salsa night. In a fit of excitement I've downloaded, oh, say, 100 salsa/tango songs.
Oh! I know what I can write... the things I want to do this summer:
1. Drama course at the communiyy college
2. I want to retake up guitar and piano and see how much progress I can make with one summer of dedicated practicing
3. I want to finish off the Nobel Prize Library that I started (barely) over Christmas vacation
Shoot, there was more, but I've forgotten, and I suppose it doesn't really matter anyway. It's not as if I'm going to accomplish any of that anyhow.
Where's my Zoloft?
katherine 2:13 PM