Bartholomew and Jack

Is it?

Is it crazy to think you can have met your one and only at 17?

"Yes," I tell myself.

Preposterous.

But sometimes I don't know.

The way you talk about forever sometimes makes me wish it were so.

I really start to believe you.

And we aren't like them.

Not at all.

What we have is so...indescribable.

I really just can't imagine us going wrong.

I can't picture us fighting.

There would never be a taking for granted.

We're different.

But how many lost little girls have I heard that from?

"Sure you are," became my standard cynical reply.

Maybe I really didn't have the perspective to judge them.

This too shall probably blow up in my face.

But I just don't see it.

The way you are just makes me loose my sense.

...And I told them I wanted to fall in love...

Bliss

It wasn't this all-powerful thing it's always presented as. I didn't come out of it a different person. It didn't turn me into some lovesick puppy. My life was not transformed or even conceivably altered.

I was happy. Really happy. The happiest I can ever remember being. The second I was living it I completely forgot what I was ever worried about. Every discussion I'd had with anyone, any sage piece of wisdom they'd try to pass on from their mistakes - when it came down to it, the only thing that truly mattered was what was in my heart.

It's one of those things that can be generalized. It often is. People say "this is right" "that is wrong", but it's not like that. For every person it's different, and even then with every person it's different.

I've been told I lucked out. But for me, life right now is absolutely marvelous. :)

Troy

Battle scars guard the heart

Like the Trojan wall

Thickly built and rooted in ancient history

Love is precious Helen

Both cause and prisoner

Impending siege leaves her fate in the throws of confusion

Some stories are short stories

This was not to be a ten year war

And yet there was a Trojan horse

Some things are unforeseen

Perhaps Odysseus enjoyed his years of solitude

Though he missed Penelope

What is life without fully-enveloping adventure?

Young hearts are impassioned, impulsive, and easily swayed as the golden maiden shows

They do not pass up Opportunity for Commitment's sake

One can wait on Ithaca's shores for a love that may never return the same,

But I have many islands to see before that day is mine

How life would be simpler were it not for boys clever of spirit and impulsive fair-haired girls with adventure in their eyes...

next

Life hasn't been quite what I want lately. It's a funny place to be on the brink of adulthood.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm having an amazing summer. Lots of adventures. Crazy times with friends. A fabulous boyfriend who makes everyday wonderful. Even had an easy time with my mom for the most part. But it's just...this isn't how I pictured it.

You look up as a little kid, and you picture your life a certain way. And, while I figured out a while ago I wasn't cheerleader material, and I would never be little miss popular, I just saw things a little differently.

I got really excited about moving out. I was going to be rough and young and hip. We'd take our little red Jeep to thrift stores for clothes, before heading back to our crappy little studio apartment. Gettin' by on love, friendship, and minimum wage. It was going to be a glorious adventure, and it was mine for the taking. And while I realize and appreciate the fact that we would've been dead broke, and being stuck at home probably has more benefits than losses, I can't help but feel a pang of sadness every time I see a Cherokee. My life was almost mine.

I just wasn't suppose to be here. I mean, I know I'm not trapped. I'm only here until January, and then I get to go away to college. It really is a pretty sweet deal. It's just not how I pictured. I was going to be a hip young adult. Work as a waitress, or in a coffee shop. Have a cool haircut. Drive a car that was freely mine. Be independent.

And I mean, I'm getting closer. I am now, for the most part, the person I wanted to be last summer. The one with an armful of friendship bracelets, crazy blond hair, a closet full of flannels, and the perfect summer romance. But after conquering that hurdle, I shift, I want something new and different and I feel like I'll never catch up.

I watched this rather mediocre film called Passengers a while ago, and there was a quote from it that has stayed with me.

"You know what's scary about decisions? When you make one, life becomes real. Not possible, or how you imagined it - real."

I'm learning more and more that each choice I make effects the person I will be tomorrow. It's a terrifyingly large amount of pressure. I'm not so trapped in the plexyglass bubble any more. My future is racing towards me and my procrastinative screw up nature has a very loud voice in my head telling me I can't do it.

I want an apartment in a trendy urban city with a closet so full of sundresses there's a new one for each day of summer.

Time to jump.

So what's it going to be Katherine, sink or swim?

In Time, I Trust

"...Wait for a boy who calls you beautiful, instead of hot. Wait for a boy who calls you back when you hang up on him. Wait for a boy who will lay under the stars with you or will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for a boy who kisses your forehead. The boy who wants to show you off to his friends even when you are wearing sweats. Wait for a boy who will pick you up off your tippy toes for a kiss and the one who holds you so tight it feels like he will never let go. Wait for a boy who reminds you of how much he cares & how lucky he is to have you. Wait for a boy who plays with your hair while you’re asleep. The boy who won’t let the night end until he sees one more smile. Wait for a boy who watches you instead of the movie and will turn your head away from the movies just so he can get a second look into your eyes. Wait for a boy who constantly pulls you back every time you say goodbye just for one more kiss. Wait for a boy who calls your phone right after he drops you off, just to hear your voice again. The boy who calls you “honey” or “sweetie”. Wait for a boy who laughs at your jokes, even though you know they are stupid. The boy who makes you feel like you’re his world. Wait for a boy who gives you a little kisses on the tip of your nose. Wait for a boy who will bring you flowers just because its Wednesday. Wait for a boy who turns to his friends and says “that’s her"..."

He's not what I expected. I didn't picture prince charming in plaid. I pictured him a bit taller, maybe broader shoulders, a slightly more chiseled jaw, but here he is, and he's not quite how I pictured, and I'm completely okay with that.

Hamilton and I met in a basement a few months ago. After weeks of hearing that either a) we would be instant best friends or b) we should totally date because c) we were basically the same person, I was naturally a bit curious to meet this individual. For the superficial reasons listed above, I instantly marked him off dating potential and we became pretty good friends. Many late night life-talks via facebook chat followed that one drunken basement evening. But then after Alex and I were over, I found myself wondering. I found myself intoxicated by his wit and sense of self. I questioned his sentences, searching for a hint at potential for more. And then on the class Disneyland trip, I saved him a seat just because I knew we could easily have an amusing 8-hr conversation and he would be one of the few awake and not grumpy after the ordeal. He sat next to me and we giggled about nonsense and cuddled trying to make bus seats more comfortable. I woke up with this tiny blond boy sleeping on top of me and I realized that my feelings for him were more then friendly.

The next phase passed in a blur. I'm pretty sure he'd had his mind made up about me from the get-go (though I'd been oblivious til that fateful night in tha magic kingdom (hehe, sounds like an innuendo)). In the next week our friendship was the same and yet different somehow. They're was more cuddling for starters. But otherwise, the change wasn't visible, just palpable.

After one such afternoon of cuddling and a long winded tickle fight, he kissed me. Two days later on another such afternoon he just looked down at me and says, "So I haven't officially asked this yet, so I think I should: Katherine Stevens, will you go out with me?" I literally spent a good two minutes attempting to think it over (my head was bit cloudy for thinking). He asked if he should be concerned that my answer was taking so long. I explained that I'd never gone out with anyone before so I had to think about it. He giggled.

It's been about a week and a half since then. It's just starting to occur to me that I have a boyfriend. I've been using the word a lot trying to get myself use to the idea; practicing it in casual conversation, trying to be nonchalant. I still have slightly mixed feelings about the whole thing. I have my moments of slight superficial insecurity: My god, what am I doing with him? We must look so silly with my being taller. But I'm starting to see these negative voices quelled with time. Every time I talk to this boy I like him a little more. He's incredibly sweet and everyone (including him) keeps telling me that he really really likes me. I'm a little scared that I might hurt him somehow; we're both aware that he's more invested in this than I am, and we all saw how that circumstance went for me last time. And now, after spending an amazing night with him last night I'm starting to get a little scared that I might really fall for this boy; but by the time I manage to get my heart unguarded enough to let him in, it will be time for him to leave for college and us to be over.

But I'm not worrying. I think part of putting this blog off in fact was fighting worry. I'm not over-thinking this one, I'm just trusting myself on autopilot and living it. I'm not trying to make this something more than it is. We're going to have a fun summer relationship. I'm in it for the ride, as long as that ride may last - I'm gonna enjoy it, and not regret anything when it's over, just look back and smile at the fun I had.


What I can say so far though, is that this last week has taught me three important things I wish I could tell my younger self:

1 - Having a boyfriend is not that special. The word does not revolutionize your life. Sure they're kinda sweet and nifty sometimes, but you can't rest your salvation on someone's shoulders - it's just way too much pressure.

2- Get comfortable with dating before embarking on a relationship. Not every romantic encounter will result in a relationship, and yeah, it kinda sucks sometimes when he just didn't like you back. But love isn't something that can or should be pressured. Date around. Explore the world's bountiful options. It will let you have some great experiences, meet cool people, and learn a lot about yourself. Don't focus on trying to get to the relationship phase, just enjoy the ride for what it is. And if it doesn't ever make it there, you've had fun and you've learned things that you won't even realize you know until you finally do get to that relationship someday. In a roundabout way, I did this; I just went at it with the wrong attitude.

3- Don't settle. Don't accept some half-rate guy just because all you're friends have boyfriends and you don't want to die alone. Wait for the boy who calls you beautiful rather than hot. Don't reduce yourself to some boy who can't even open the door for you. The universe provides all things in time. Be patient and you might just get someone absolutely amazing (...well actually, if I'm talking to myself here, be patient and you WILL get someone absolutely amazing...but anyway...). The best things in life are worth waiting for.

Backed by Popular Demand

I haven't written in almost a month and there's practically been riot in the streets. There's so many things you want me to write about.

I know you want me to write about graduation. About how it was the most surreal experience of my life outside of my car accident. I still haven't come to terms with the fact that I'll never see most of them again. I think if I actually let my self realize that it'd be way too sad. I keep getting told that everything is gonna change, but I don't want it to; so unhealthy as it may be, I'm clinging to the strands of my "old" life right now. I just barely got a high school experience and I'm not quite ready for it to be over just yet. (Kind of like how I still haven't read the 6th Harry Potter cause I just can't let go of Dumbledore yet.)

You're probably curious about my moving out. About how incredibly excited and terrified I am. The space is going to be small. My roommate and I are going to have to absolutely work every free waking hour just to make rent and gas money. But as of this moment we're doing it. Even if it's unfurnished and we live on the floor. I can't live in a house where I'm not sure I'll have a place to sleep depending on my mom's mood. I refused to be belittled and abused anymore. And though I feel a little guilty, like I'm abandoning my family, I'm going to be 18 and it's time for me to fly.

And lastly I know the most pressing topic is my boyfriend. I've been quelled for weeks to write about him (even though we've only been together about 1 now). You know I've really thought about what to say regarding him/this/us and I'm still at a loss for words. I know you all want the deets, but I'm not ready yet. Our relationship, my feelings for him and my feelings about being in relationship are still so constantly changing. Let me catch my breath and I promise I'll give you brilliance.

But for now I have a job interview and a huge party to go to.
Ahh. Summer <3

Powerful

So I've been thinking lately, what is it that makes some one a whore? If you look it up in the dictionary it's a promiscuous or slovenly woman, usually a prostitute...but we use the term so loosely. Skank, whore, slut, sometimes they're even terms we lovingly call our friends. But how is insinuating that your friend sells her self for money a term of endearment exactly? I mean these words were once the lowest of the low in terms of insults, and now we throw them around like as if they were a common greeting. And the tricky thing about them is that sometimes, these words have a double meaning; it can be hard to tell if someone is joking.

So the question is, how do we define what makes someone a slut/skank/whore? Obviously, the dictionary definition is outdated at this point. I had this conversation with my mom the other day and she made the rather astute point that a skank is just someone of low moral/social class, a slut is someone who goes "sluttin' around" with a lot of people, and a whore is someone who "sluts around" only as it is beneficial to them. But then when I proposed the question as to how far one must go to deem these terms, it became difficult to receive and answer. (Partially because I think she began to get really suspicious that I had much more personal association with what she thought was an abstract conversation than she had realized at first.)

The reason I've been so curious is because I have been quite the victim of such name calling recently. It started with my friends joking around. Yeah I made out with Barbosa a lot and kind of publicly, haha, I'm a whore, very funny. But then someone wrote "So I hear you're slutty now" on my formspring, and I began to question my actions. Is that really what some people think of me? I mean I understand that I am a very sexualized person and I present a certain image, but by dictionary terms, I'm not a slovenly woman. And it's not so much worry what other people think of me as it is what this means for my own self perception.

I grew up with this rather male-modeled perception in my head of sex as power. Some one who sleeps with a lot of people is cool and powerful. My childhood cinematic role models taught me that being a sexy woman gives you this kind of power over men, and as I grew up and it became more real I learned just how intoxicating such power can be. (And you really can't factor love into any of this argument, because as far as I was, and somewhat still am concerned, sex and love are two different things. Though I believe they sometimes intermingle, let's just say they're oil and water for the sake of this post.)

So where is the line between being sexy and powerful and being a whore? Does "putting out" surrender ones power? Because the way I see it, if I want to hook up with so and so, it's my life and I have a right to do that, but at the same time, it's incredibly complicated to make these choices on a situational basis. Hooking up with random guys is a slutty thing to do; it cannot be justified because one "wanted to". I think the differentiation (or at least the conclusion I've made) is who holds the power. It's different in a relationship, but in terms of hooking up, the difference between the powerful woman and the slut is that sluts get taken advantage of. I can live with someone calling me a whore as long as I know I was in control of the situation - you don't get emotionally attached; you do things on your terms; you don't let any boy use you; and mostly, you own every choice that you make.

Having been on the receiving end though, I think I for one am going to be a lot more sensitive of the use of this term and try to be a lot less judgmental of the girls I might use it with. I don't have a question for you, the reader, or an answer really; it was just a little food for thought.

Breathe

Hey! Guess what? I'm okay.
Life's up, life's down, but I'm okay.
I thought I couldn't live without you, we've both moved on and I'm okay.
Alex and I are starting to be friends. Real, actual, just friends, and I'm okay.

Green-Eyed Girl

Around you, I have discovered, I become this person I don't want to be.

I'm petty and I'm jealous.
I can't stand watching other girls flirt with you,

even if they're my friends and I know nothing's going on,
even when we're they're sitting right next to their boyfriend of forever.

I really can't take it when it's the girls that I know are after you,

even if I know you hate them.

I can't handle it because they get to touch you and I don't.
I can't handle that we'll be in the same room and you will completely ignore me and talk to them. Though rumor has it that maybe your not flirting with me because you actually do like me, somehow, being ignored, it really doesn't feel that way.

I hate that we're at this place where we're friends, but we aren't really. I mean, to you we might be. You seem fine. But I can't handle it. Being around you is miserable for me - it only reminds me how much I like you.

(Hittin' My Head) Against the Wall

Life's frustrating right now.

My good friends keep asking me why the hell I'm with Alex. I mean, technically, I'm not with Alex, but I still want to be with Alex. Everyone always sees us together and assumes I'm with Alex. I'm still obsessed with Alex. I can't go five seconds without thinking about Alex. "He's the crazy one" they tell me when I tell them that he's made it clear he doesn't want me. Apparently I'm an awesome person and he doesn't deserve me if he's too stupid to see that, and I know this, but I can't help myself. It's like him not wanting me makes me want him even more. I have a feeling it's tied to some daddy issue of vying for affection. But, even so, it's more than that. Being with him would be convenient. I see him all the time anyway, I'm already comfortable with him. It just makes sense. My heart's been through too much this year. I don't want another boy. I don't want to have to start all over again when I've made it this far. I want to work it out. I want to move forward.

I've debated just telling him. Telling him that when I said I was cool with us just being friends I was lying. I was lying because I didn't feel like I had any other choice. I was thinking about asking him over today. But I don't think I will. I'm too chicken. I'm scared he'll say no. And knowing him, he won't really say no he'll come up with a nice non-no and me having to see him all the time will become this awkward torture for the both of us. And yet, having to see him already kills me inside, so isn't the chance that it could get better worth the risk of it getting worse?

And then there's this whole sex thing. I was talking with one of my friends about some stuff and she made it really apparent she's on some self-determined timeline that she has to lose it before high school's over. At first I was like, "Well I'm not quite in that much of a rush...", but aren't I? I mean, I go back and forth on this issue constantly, and I'm not on some timeline, I think that's stupid, but it's all I can think about lately. (Other then obsessing of Alex that is. It's a deadly depressing combination.) You see since I crashed my car I've been bad. Maybe not outwardly so, but I notice in moments that my depression's gotten worse. It's not like suicidal or anything, but it's like I can't feel anything anymore. It's pure apathy. I care about nothing. I feel nothing. The only moments that I actually feel alive are the one's that I'm "with" someone. So I think somewhere I've subliminally told myself that I want to have sex because I want to feel alive. I know I should care more about the whole virginity thing than I do (or so my Catholic education is constantly telling me), but I just don't. I'll probably change my mind again. I mean, it's not like I have any current geographically-available prospects. I don't know. I'm just in one of those places where my life's on stall. I'm due for some good though, so hopefully things will pick up soon.