I dyed my hair back to auburn
missed the fire in my hair
not to mention I found 6 greys
thanks Mom, I got your genes.
I'll be white by 25
and I'll have my colorist on speed dial.
Maybe thats why I attract older men...I get greys. (?)
also...I like how it intensifies my eyes without me having to try
It's kind of fascinating.
really, it's stellar.
this:: this moment right now
I'm smiling
that anxious smile
where the edges are fighting back from my teeth being shown
it's marvelous
this::this moment
is treasured.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
A couple pages and a character list of This play I thought of....thoughts?
BLOGS
By Katy Kettles
Characters
Amber –
She’s 16 year old girl with weight problems and who is always in a constant struggle with her mother over them. Likes fashion but can’t wear the clothes she wants from the difficulties of being a teenage girl. She is also a little boy crazy or boy wishful and she’s quite pure and innocent from afar. Often sarcastic.
Blog Amber-
The girl whom the real Amber sees herself as being in her mind. She’s a skinny, fashionable and more sexy than the real Amber. Confidence wreaks out of her.
Ambers Mom-
One of the two characters without a duel personality. Strong, pretty and cookie cutter. Iron fist.
James-
He’s 24 years old and in his Senior year of college studying Psychology. Engaged to a girl named Joy, except she in his opinion is not that joyful. In a constant struggle with true love and his relationship with Joy. Not confident in his looks to get a woman who treats him well so he settled with the first one who came along.
Blog James-
Suave. A rippling sexy man like an Abercrombie n’ fitch model.
Joy-
Extremely appealing in person but with a nasty temper and a need for control. Settled for James because she thinks of him like a puppy.
Heather-
A business woman in her 30’s. On the outside she looks strong and beautiful. Keeps things in like her drunken father who raped her and is trying to get back into her life.
Blog Heather-
She is quite damaged. Not like her real self at all.
BLOGS
Act One, Scene One
(The stage has three different “bedrooms” and three different computers at each one. One is the bedroom of a teenager with an old rusty PC. The second is of an abused laptop from college. The third is a fancy pristine computer set-up, state of the art. The lights come up on the set-up of the rusty PC where Amber walks in, slams the door and sits at the computer screen with a vacant look. After a few moments of silence a pounding is heard on the door from Amber’s Mother)
Amber’s Mother: (yelling) Open up this door Amber! You know better than to make a scene at the dinner table and especially in front of company. Do you understand…Amber? Honestly Amber this is ridiculous, you didn’t need that ice cream. (pause) You want to fit into that dress for homecoming don’t you? Because in order to do that we have to make some sacrifices and that means no ice cream. (pause) Besides beauty is pain Amber…Okay Amber, fine. You don’t want to talk to me? Is this what I am hearing from your agonizing silence of grief from the loss of your precious food? Get over it dear, look at the dress and remember that I love you…Now I am going to clean up after the ludicrous scene you just made in front of the youth pastor and I will talk to you later.
(footsteps are heard offstage)
Amber: (mocking) agonizing silence of grief from the loss of your food? Wow; such love.
(turns on the computer. It begins to make some noises and Amber hits it really hard and then it goes back to normal)
Amber: Besides, (gets up leans against the door and whispers) You bought the dress two sizes too small on purpose Mother. (reveals the dress hanging on the edge on the desk and starts typing)
(at this moment Blog Amber appears with a bowl of ice cream and wearing the dress while Amber is still typing)
Blog Amber: 7:08 pm on October 10th 2006. Mothers… Mothers…MOTHERS! (eats the ice cream and rants) They think they know everything. They think they are some “powerful” God that rules over the domestically conformed house to society’s standards. That is ludicracy, not my free-will to eat ice cream. Besides I think I look great eating ice cream in this dress, in theory not at all attractive but extremely satisfying. (smothers Ice cream into her mouth) Yummmmmm! That’s what I call a meal for the soul. (sets down the ice cream) Can’t beat happiness on a spoon MOTHER!
Amber: (Sighs and slams her fist on the computer counter hard and returns to typing)
Blog Amber: (not hesitating) Being sixteen these days is not easy. I deal with the stupidity of the generation that went before me. They believed in food, they believed in steak and mashed potatoes, they believed sugar was to make your kid sweeter. What we believe in is “going green” and resorting to our lives depending on the amount of calories we intake. We should be counting how many days the sun actually shines or really counting how many licks it takes to get to the center of the tootsie pop. That’s what we should be doing. I mean it’s grand and all to start eating better, but some days I just want normalcy. I want to enjoy an ice cream bowl every once in a while without having my motives questioned or having someone take it away from me. I never thought that would be too much to ask but apparently IT IS!
By Katy Kettles
Characters
Amber –
She’s 16 year old girl with weight problems and who is always in a constant struggle with her mother over them. Likes fashion but can’t wear the clothes she wants from the difficulties of being a teenage girl. She is also a little boy crazy or boy wishful and she’s quite pure and innocent from afar. Often sarcastic.
Blog Amber-
The girl whom the real Amber sees herself as being in her mind. She’s a skinny, fashionable and more sexy than the real Amber. Confidence wreaks out of her.
Ambers Mom-
One of the two characters without a duel personality. Strong, pretty and cookie cutter. Iron fist.
James-
He’s 24 years old and in his Senior year of college studying Psychology. Engaged to a girl named Joy, except she in his opinion is not that joyful. In a constant struggle with true love and his relationship with Joy. Not confident in his looks to get a woman who treats him well so he settled with the first one who came along.
Blog James-
Suave. A rippling sexy man like an Abercrombie n’ fitch model.
Joy-
Extremely appealing in person but with a nasty temper and a need for control. Settled for James because she thinks of him like a puppy.
Heather-
A business woman in her 30’s. On the outside she looks strong and beautiful. Keeps things in like her drunken father who raped her and is trying to get back into her life.
Blog Heather-
She is quite damaged. Not like her real self at all.
BLOGS
Act One, Scene One
(The stage has three different “bedrooms” and three different computers at each one. One is the bedroom of a teenager with an old rusty PC. The second is of an abused laptop from college. The third is a fancy pristine computer set-up, state of the art. The lights come up on the set-up of the rusty PC where Amber walks in, slams the door and sits at the computer screen with a vacant look. After a few moments of silence a pounding is heard on the door from Amber’s Mother)
Amber’s Mother: (yelling) Open up this door Amber! You know better than to make a scene at the dinner table and especially in front of company. Do you understand…Amber? Honestly Amber this is ridiculous, you didn’t need that ice cream. (pause) You want to fit into that dress for homecoming don’t you? Because in order to do that we have to make some sacrifices and that means no ice cream. (pause) Besides beauty is pain Amber…Okay Amber, fine. You don’t want to talk to me? Is this what I am hearing from your agonizing silence of grief from the loss of your precious food? Get over it dear, look at the dress and remember that I love you…Now I am going to clean up after the ludicrous scene you just made in front of the youth pastor and I will talk to you later.
(footsteps are heard offstage)
Amber: (mocking) agonizing silence of grief from the loss of your food? Wow; such love.
(turns on the computer. It begins to make some noises and Amber hits it really hard and then it goes back to normal)
Amber: Besides, (gets up leans against the door and whispers) You bought the dress two sizes too small on purpose Mother. (reveals the dress hanging on the edge on the desk and starts typing)
(at this moment Blog Amber appears with a bowl of ice cream and wearing the dress while Amber is still typing)
Blog Amber: 7:08 pm on October 10th 2006. Mothers… Mothers…MOTHERS! (eats the ice cream and rants) They think they know everything. They think they are some “powerful” God that rules over the domestically conformed house to society’s standards. That is ludicracy, not my free-will to eat ice cream. Besides I think I look great eating ice cream in this dress, in theory not at all attractive but extremely satisfying. (smothers Ice cream into her mouth) Yummmmmm! That’s what I call a meal for the soul. (sets down the ice cream) Can’t beat happiness on a spoon MOTHER!
Amber: (Sighs and slams her fist on the computer counter hard and returns to typing)
Blog Amber: (not hesitating) Being sixteen these days is not easy. I deal with the stupidity of the generation that went before me. They believed in food, they believed in steak and mashed potatoes, they believed sugar was to make your kid sweeter. What we believe in is “going green” and resorting to our lives depending on the amount of calories we intake. We should be counting how many days the sun actually shines or really counting how many licks it takes to get to the center of the tootsie pop. That’s what we should be doing. I mean it’s grand and all to start eating better, but some days I just want normalcy. I want to enjoy an ice cream bowl every once in a while without having my motives questioned or having someone take it away from me. I never thought that would be too much to ask but apparently IT IS!
Snowflakes
Right Now
The first snowfall was a demanding presence when I woke up this morning. At first I thought maybe the sun was greeting me through the curtains or headlights from a car leaving early in the morning. When realizing that this could not possibly be it from how angelic white it was, a little bundle of joy seeped through my pores opening up the curtains. This opening revealed crisp white snow, the kind that seems to float so slow that it was possible to see each individual snowflake. Each snowflake displays an intricate design of God’s tears. There’s a season for everything. There’s a season for love, for grief, for forgiveness and for discovery. Because to each person their own time; to each person their own season.
The snowflakes however always come at the perfect time. They come when all the leaves have fallen and left only the dead carcasses of spring flings and summer getaways. Indian summer has faded in all its colors, leaving only blank canvases. It’s the closest place to death. Seeing all these beautiful things just fade away to only a distant memory. People tend to become so dark around this time; even the fashions only allow black, brown, purple and navy to cover the store’s shelves. It makes it hard to think of anything else besides freezing in our cars listening to oldies. The snowflakes though; they revive dead land to a place beyond just frozen life. Even in death there’s life they say. The snowflakes are an earthly proof that in death; is life.
Two Months Ago
Ally doesn’t think twice when she does things, she just does them. I think that would be good, doing things without conscience or reason. Reason is the ultimate form of admitting you think just like the rest of the world. How lovely, I have now become just what I didn’t want to be; normal. Ally however isn’t just normal, she’s abnormal. People either love her or hate her and Ally wouldn’t care what they thought as long as they bought her another beer. That’s what’s nice about Ally, she just doesn’t care.
Ally and I have been waitresses at a rural restaurant called “The Place” for about a year. It’s called “The Place” because this little town never wanted a fancy name for it. Fancy names get old real fast, and besides the obvious that it’s a place. Nobody can argue with that statement, that a place is a place. Therefore Ally and I work at “The Place”. As Ally says, “why the hell would I want to work anywhere else, at least here I can remember where I am going and somebody might even know my name“. Ally’s not at all my best friend, but if you ask her she would say yes and then tell you about how her shower was cold last night. Ally’s just like that, not knowing when to shut up.
It was a Tuesday evening in September when Ally finally realized that she knew nothing about me. She was waiting on some Buddhist tourists when she had this revelation. This revelation was so strong that she couldn’t wait until after she took down their orders. In a casual tone Ally simply said;”Here write it down” handing them the notebook and running to the back. At this time I was taking a smoke break outside when Ally busted the damn door open, “Bette do you ever talk?” I inhaled and puffed a smoke ray towards her feet before replying, “Nice shoes?” only to return to staring at the artwork on the fence. This pissed Ally off a little bit so she of course sat down next to me without asking, because if you ask beforehand they will most likely say no. Go figure.
“Bette, I mean talk DO YOU TALK?”
“Sometimes”
“Sometimes; like as in once every year? Bette that’s like saying the leprechauns only come out to play once a year on St. Patty’s day. Where did you grow up? Why is it you fell out of the sky to work here a year ago? WHY?”
“Grew up in Michigan, don’t visit if you don’t like unpredictable weather. Then I fell out of the sky to work here because I moved here. I needed a job, fancy that”
“Real funny Bette, so you’re from Michigan eh? Why did you leave Michigan to live in North Dakota, seems to me like you lost a bet with a devil.”
“Ally have you ever been to Michigan?”
“No, but I hear it’s quite pretty. I would like to go someday. Seems like a place with more to do and see than here.”
“So why don’t you go?”
Ally slumped back in her chair and for the first time she fell silent.
“Ally, why don’t you go?”
“Don’t know, say you want to leave this place and go?”
“I just came from there! I am not going back”
“Why not did you kill somebody?”
“No”
“Then what are you some sex offender on the run? I mean I highly doubt it since you probably got cobwebs up there. We need to go to the bar tonight, some guy’s going be your maid tonight.”
“Ally, I am not a sex offender and you can tell me about the bar tomorrow afternoon. Besides I liked our relationship better when you talked and I just sat here. It was a great friendship.”
“Bette, that’s your idea of friendship? Damn then I don’t want to know your definition of fun? Actually go ahead, define it.”
“Define fun?”
“Yeah, define fun.”
I paused as I inhaled the last of my cigarette, throwing it on the ground. Then getting up and walking towards the door I said, “If you want it defined then your barking up the wrong tree because unlike you I got work to do”. Opening the door to the kitchen I felt this weird sensation as if talking about stuff actually felt good. I never thought about going back to Michigan. Just like I never thought I would reveal that much information to anybody I worked with. I guess Ally has always had a way with people, getting them to be out of their element for just a little while.
The first snowfall was a demanding presence when I woke up this morning. At first I thought maybe the sun was greeting me through the curtains or headlights from a car leaving early in the morning. When realizing that this could not possibly be it from how angelic white it was, a little bundle of joy seeped through my pores opening up the curtains. This opening revealed crisp white snow, the kind that seems to float so slow that it was possible to see each individual snowflake. Each snowflake displays an intricate design of God’s tears. There’s a season for everything. There’s a season for love, for grief, for forgiveness and for discovery. Because to each person their own time; to each person their own season.
The snowflakes however always come at the perfect time. They come when all the leaves have fallen and left only the dead carcasses of spring flings and summer getaways. Indian summer has faded in all its colors, leaving only blank canvases. It’s the closest place to death. Seeing all these beautiful things just fade away to only a distant memory. People tend to become so dark around this time; even the fashions only allow black, brown, purple and navy to cover the store’s shelves. It makes it hard to think of anything else besides freezing in our cars listening to oldies. The snowflakes though; they revive dead land to a place beyond just frozen life. Even in death there’s life they say. The snowflakes are an earthly proof that in death; is life.
Two Months Ago
Ally doesn’t think twice when she does things, she just does them. I think that would be good, doing things without conscience or reason. Reason is the ultimate form of admitting you think just like the rest of the world. How lovely, I have now become just what I didn’t want to be; normal. Ally however isn’t just normal, she’s abnormal. People either love her or hate her and Ally wouldn’t care what they thought as long as they bought her another beer. That’s what’s nice about Ally, she just doesn’t care.
Ally and I have been waitresses at a rural restaurant called “The Place” for about a year. It’s called “The Place” because this little town never wanted a fancy name for it. Fancy names get old real fast, and besides the obvious that it’s a place. Nobody can argue with that statement, that a place is a place. Therefore Ally and I work at “The Place”. As Ally says, “why the hell would I want to work anywhere else, at least here I can remember where I am going and somebody might even know my name“. Ally’s not at all my best friend, but if you ask her she would say yes and then tell you about how her shower was cold last night. Ally’s just like that, not knowing when to shut up.
It was a Tuesday evening in September when Ally finally realized that she knew nothing about me. She was waiting on some Buddhist tourists when she had this revelation. This revelation was so strong that she couldn’t wait until after she took down their orders. In a casual tone Ally simply said;”Here write it down” handing them the notebook and running to the back. At this time I was taking a smoke break outside when Ally busted the damn door open, “Bette do you ever talk?” I inhaled and puffed a smoke ray towards her feet before replying, “Nice shoes?” only to return to staring at the artwork on the fence. This pissed Ally off a little bit so she of course sat down next to me without asking, because if you ask beforehand they will most likely say no. Go figure.
“Bette, I mean talk DO YOU TALK?”
“Sometimes”
“Sometimes; like as in once every year? Bette that’s like saying the leprechauns only come out to play once a year on St. Patty’s day. Where did you grow up? Why is it you fell out of the sky to work here a year ago? WHY?”
“Grew up in Michigan, don’t visit if you don’t like unpredictable weather. Then I fell out of the sky to work here because I moved here. I needed a job, fancy that”
“Real funny Bette, so you’re from Michigan eh? Why did you leave Michigan to live in North Dakota, seems to me like you lost a bet with a devil.”
“Ally have you ever been to Michigan?”
“No, but I hear it’s quite pretty. I would like to go someday. Seems like a place with more to do and see than here.”
“So why don’t you go?”
Ally slumped back in her chair and for the first time she fell silent.
“Ally, why don’t you go?”
“Don’t know, say you want to leave this place and go?”
“I just came from there! I am not going back”
“Why not did you kill somebody?”
“No”
“Then what are you some sex offender on the run? I mean I highly doubt it since you probably got cobwebs up there. We need to go to the bar tonight, some guy’s going be your maid tonight.”
“Ally, I am not a sex offender and you can tell me about the bar tomorrow afternoon. Besides I liked our relationship better when you talked and I just sat here. It was a great friendship.”
“Bette, that’s your idea of friendship? Damn then I don’t want to know your definition of fun? Actually go ahead, define it.”
“Define fun?”
“Yeah, define fun.”
I paused as I inhaled the last of my cigarette, throwing it on the ground. Then getting up and walking towards the door I said, “If you want it defined then your barking up the wrong tree because unlike you I got work to do”. Opening the door to the kitchen I felt this weird sensation as if talking about stuff actually felt good. I never thought about going back to Michigan. Just like I never thought I would reveal that much information to anybody I worked with. I guess Ally has always had a way with people, getting them to be out of their element for just a little while.
Pose
Pose
Not like that
Smile
But that’s too much
Be sexy
But don’t try to hard
Sell yourself
But not for money
It’s for the art
Now do your part
Not like that
Smile
But that’s too much
Be sexy
But don’t try to hard
Sell yourself
But not for money
It’s for the art
Now do your part
Friday, January 30, 2009
Open Books
I am open book
Not sitting on the shelf
Closed and unrecogniczed
But open
Freely read
With thousands of minds
Thinking, pondering
About what is said
Because where would we be
If I stayed closed
Or if Whitman
Or Thoreau
One day decided
There was no need
For their words to be bound
And produced by the masses?
What a terrible world
What a terrible world
It would be indeed
So I am an open book
Take a look
Not sitting on the shelf
Closed and unrecogniczed
But open
Freely read
With thousands of minds
Thinking, pondering
About what is said
Because where would we be
If I stayed closed
Or if Whitman
Or Thoreau
One day decided
There was no need
For their words to be bound
And produced by the masses?
What a terrible world
What a terrible world
It would be indeed
So I am an open book
Take a look
Open Books
I am open book
Not sitting on the shelf
Closed and unrecogniczed
But open
Freely read
With thousands of minds
Thinking, pondering
About what is said
Because where would we be
If I stayed closed
Or if Whitman
Or Thoreau
One day decided
There was no need
For their words to be bound
And produced by the masses?
What a terrible world
What a terrible world
It would be indeed
So I am an open book
Take a look
Not sitting on the shelf
Closed and unrecogniczed
But open
Freely read
With thousands of minds
Thinking, pondering
About what is said
Because where would we be
If I stayed closed
Or if Whitman
Or Thoreau
One day decided
There was no need
For their words to be bound
And produced by the masses?
What a terrible world
What a terrible world
It would be indeed
So I am an open book
Take a look
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