Notes

A couple things:

• Tia joined the cool kids' club (yeah, that's right) and posted her Writer's Story. Read it here, and here.
  
  
• Totally got to watch two F-18s land and then take off at work the other day. That was the excitement of my week.
  
  
• I feel like, with the tech writing and my personal writing and trying to take care of the house and having a social life--I might lose my mind this summer. Which doesn't really affect you, because my blog posts will probably become only slightly more nonsensical. So, carry on.
  
  
• Happy Fourth! Fireworks! Parades! Cookouts! Best yet, a day off!
  
  Now, I mentioned last year that I come from a town where the Fourth of July parade is highly, highly anticipated. Social event of the summer, you might say. Some might have thought I was exaggerating about the week-long Parade of Chairs that precedes the actual parade.
  
  Here ya go. See? I was not exaggerating. People really do that. And that was published yesterday, so the photo would've been taken Wednesday. The parade is today, but two days before, the sidewalks were littered with chairs.
  
  Is it any wonder I'm just...a little...off...sometimes? So there you go, kids. A mystery explained.
  

Celebrate safely!

Happy 4th!

Listening to: Rise Against, "Gesthemane"

Ah, Independence Day.

I come from a rather small town, as I've mentioned before. And in my town, the Fourth of July parade is a big freaking deal. Such a big deal, in fact, that chairs will start magically appearing on the sidewalk for days--sometimes a week--in advance. People are that eager to stake out their spot.

Lawn chairs, beach chairs, patio chairs. Tied to telephone poles, trees, and each other. Dotting the sidewalk on each side of the street, all along the parade route.

Every day, there are a few more chairs, until the night before the parade. By that point, you can't even walk down the sidewalk. The chairs have claimed the whole thing. I call that week prior to the actual parade "The Parade of the Chairs".

Yes, folks, this is what I come from.

Happy fourth!

-Kristin

Back from the Dead

Haven't been posting much because I felt like no one was reading it. But I'm realizing that this thing is more for me than the rest of the world. Although, if that were true, I would just keep an actual private journal or something. So, not really just for me. But mostly for me. It's nice to have a place where my thoughts (at least, those that are appropriate for public consumption) are just...there. Not that any of them are all that revolutionary or striking or original...but they're mine, so. Whatever.

If you actually know me, here's something for you to go and do: Interactive Personality Test. You pick the adjectives that you feel describe me best, and it compares them to the ones I and other people that know me have chosen. Also, here is a weird and wonderful little time waster for you. Just draw a line, then press play, and a little penguin-like-thing on a sled will ride down the line. Lots of fun to make him crash into stuff or free-fall into eternity.

And hey, anyone in the market for a school building in a small, northwestern PA town? If so, you're in luck. I also learned through the ol' hometown's newspaper, about a week or so ago, that the Parks & Rec Board is planning on selling...oh, I think three of the city's parks.

Two of these parks are wonderful, wonderful spots, and the other I couldn't give a rat's ass about. From Washington Park you have the most wonderful view of the city. Not to mention that I ended my very first ever REAL date there (yes, it was one of the town's premiere makeout spots, but no, no funny business happened). Oh, and I got dumped there! Yeehaa! (Not by the same guy that took me there on our first date). Yeah, I know, what kind of jackass takes a girl to one of the prettiest spots in town to dump her. Oh, maybe the kind of jackass who would tell a girl he has a "surprise" for her after taking her out to dinner, but refuse to give her any details...then take her to a hotel after dinner. SURPRISE! Luckily, the guy at the desk knew me, and knew that I was only 17, so there was no need for me to kick his ass (like I could've...I was a freaking doormat back then). Only a few short weeks later, he dumped me for his best friend's girlfriend...who was of age to rent a hotel room, and I'm guessing was willing to use it. But that's just speculation.

Also being surveyed for possible real estate value is Betts Park, where we had our wedding photos taken. Like this gem, for instance:



It really is a beautiful spot, and we used to hang out there a lot when we were bored teenagers. Playing whiffle ball on the tennis courts...ah, the memories. But, you know, go ahead and sell all my childhood memories. That's fine. Yes, I'm bitter, thanks for asking. If I still lived in the town, I would find some way to raise money to keep the parks going...but that's hard to do from a few hundred miles away.

On another topic, the writing has been...meh. I'm not going to bitch and moan about it in public...I really only bitch and moan about it to my husband, and occasionally my mother. I figure, everyone's job has its difficulties and such, and most people don't kvetch nonstop about it. Why should a writer be any different, just because we're "ahhhtists" (And no, I don't consider myself an "artist". But some do)? And this isn't even a job for me, yet. Can't call it a job until you get paid. So, it's either a hobby or volunteer work. I'm gonna go with...hobby, since most volunteer work actually benefits other people, and this has yet to benefit anyone. So, when you look at it that way, why would I bitch about it? It's a hobby...and by definition, a hobby is supposed to be fun. Something you do for yourself. Not that the writing's been that fun lately, but, ya know...I can pretend.

That's about all for now. I promise more frequent posts in the future, for all you non-existent readers out there. I may be talking to myself, but hey...it's better than talking to the cat. At least myself replies once in a while.

Ta.

-Kristin