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(18 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[11 Apr 2006|09:46am]
my phone is m.i.a. as of yesterday afternoon so if anyone wants to get at me today use lj, myspace, or e-mail me. <3

j/k, found it!

(4 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[02 Apr 2006|03:31pm]
happy birthday :D

(7 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[10 Mar 2006|01:44pm]
who is in west palm and how long will you be there for?

(7 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

yes sir, i'll murder people for you. [24 Feb 2006|09:46am]
So in the past week Brendon and I managed to get into the sold out Panic! At the Disco show at the House of Blues for free, Heather, everyone, and I saw and met The Lawrence Arms at the HOB, and Heather, Tyler, and I drove to Gainsville to see TLA again where they remembered us by name, hung out, played every song we asked them to play, and gave us the set list and a poster which they later signed. I feel so satisfied.

(2 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

is there a gesture i could use to clearly express i'm at an utter loss for words? [02 Feb 2006|04:36pm]
Kathryn L. SmithCollapse )

(8 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

trick! [23 Jan 2006|12:22pm]
Today at work I certified spring semester hours for a boy named Miguel Sierra. Whaaaaaaaat?

(21 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

monster! [21 Jan 2006|06:05pm]

what a good way to start the semester!

(6 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[16 Dec 2005|08:36am]
sweet. i'm on the dean's list.

(3 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[09 Dec 2005|01:04pm]
DONE!!!!1!!11!!ONE! goodbye semester one of college, hello one month of whatever I want. Bonfire Saturday? If not, movie movie movie. Whatever happens I’m psyched.

(10 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[03 Dec 2005|11:49am]
Heather Anne and I played tennis yesterday, and by played I mean sucked royally. It was excellent, particularly the part where we conversed like boys. Then we decided to be classy broads and clean up.Collapse )

(22 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[02 Dec 2005|11:12am]
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I'm the carver.

(4 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[insert]: greg making a stupid joke about my hands here. [29 Nov 2005|01:45pm]

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To not be a complete downer, Thanksgiving was lovely. I was with my entire family in Deland and it was really pleasant. Christy’s boyfriend’s family came to dinner so there were around 30 of us. We had six pies, two pumpkin, two pecan, and four old fashioned cream. And we are definitely the ULTIMATE Publix commercial.

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Sammie had the baby on Saturday after I left, so I’m an aunt now. Aside from my dad things are actually going really well, and contrary to the image of angry bitterness that I’ve been projecting on my journal lately, I feel pretty happy. It’s almost Christmas and nothing can ruin how nice it feels this time of year. I have a mini-tree for my room, I bought a Gingerbread House Kit, and I can’t wait to see everyone when they come down.

(4 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[29 Nov 2005|11:12am]
Hey you know what’s even more fun then my last post? Getting to experience it first hand three days later! You know what smells awesome? Bleach cleaning blood off the floor. You know what’s big time fun? Forcing your dad into the car so you can drive him to the VA at 2 in the morning. You know what’s hilarious? Watching him try to escape twice. You know what I wish? That they would keep him there forever.

(9 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[24 Nov 2005|12:31am]
Somehow he’s managed to do it again. My father, in all his fumbling, lumbering, stumbling, glory, who has managed to fall and nearly kill himself a record four times since last year, hit number five tonight.

And tonight I aged twenty years.

His last trip landed him skipping and tripping down the stairs and onto broken glass which he himself dropped mid flight. He bled for fifteen minutes on the kitchen floor before he could convince my poor frazzled mother to get out of bed and see that he really was hurt. In the hospital they actually had to ask my mother as to whether the severe wounds exposing my father’s kidneys to fresh air could possibly be the result of a domestic dispute. My mother, stabbing my father, HA. He could only be so fortunate to die by the hand of another after slowly killing himself with alcohol and pills for the entirety of my life. Funny.

Tonight a similar feat occurred. I stood in my Grandmother’s kitchen, having just helped make four old-fashioned cream pies, cleaning up a mountain of sticky sweet pans when the phone rang. My aunt wrenched herself from the dent she’s permanently dug out on the couch and caught it, probably more because it was disturbing her nightly ritual of watching old movies and being unproductive more than for any other reason. Now, considering the time, I was already a little concerned; no one calls the home of a senior citizen after ten o’clock unless something really tragic has occurred.

I can pretty much gather that she’s talking to my mother by the way she’s responding. Everything sounds alright. And then I see her mouth the most horrifying words anyone can ever witness from the third party position of a phone conversation. “Dead.” And everything just, stops. So quickly in fact, that my stomach reverses itself a little bit and I’m staring and silent and racing through every probable scenario of what he could have done to himself. I get that wonky vertigo feeling and sit down, I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to know anymore, don’t tell me, I’m going to bed, stop talking. And I’m vaguely aware of my Grandmother hugging my head to her middle and saying it doesn’t look good. How do people think of things to say? Where do all the words go when something inconceivable happens? I start to yell at my Aunt to put me on the phone with my mother. Who is she to be telling me this news? Why don’t I get to hear it, why is the fucking phone still in her hand and why can’t I talk to my mother? She finally hands it over and I’m listening to the stone cold expression of my mother’s voice. Wait, why isn’t she crying? Wait, why is she so calm? No matter how burdensome a human being my father is there is no way she could be handling his death this well.

“He was dead when I found him,” she says, “fallen on the floor and bleeding from his head. And no one was answering the phone and no one was around. So I finally broke down and gave him mouth to mouth resuscitation. He made this awful rattley noise, and then he was breathing again. I called 911 and they were here twenty minutes later.”

I’m suddenly aware of my surroundings again and I, am, livid. “Why would you let me think he was dead!?” The story, now righted, ends the way it always does. He was drunk. It seems a private practitioner diagnosed him with a severe allergy to wheat. Wheat is in beer, so this woman, of course having no idea that my father was a struggling alcoholic, told him the worst thing anyone could ever suggest. “No more beer, but liquor and wine are fine.” She might as well of given him a loaded gun and said, this is a really good idea. So he goes home, unstable as he is, a dozen prescriptions already coursing through his veins, and downs a quart or so of straight Smirnoff.

And somehow, he lives.

Filthy, unintelligible, inebriated, Charles Mcgill, a walking talking medical anomaly. Men of greater constitution have dropped stone dead from mixing lesser forms of medication with that fucking alcoholic vice of his. They’re both still at the emergency room. I’m out of things to say. I’m out of explanation and criticism and anger. I’m just so god damn tired.

(22 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

the new My LJ option is more than convienent, good job live journal. [23 Nov 2005|04:17pm]
Fall weather up north is incredible. I brought home yellow, orange and red leaves, and pasted them into my journal. Distance is short when your hand carries what your eye found, but it still feels so far from where I am. Southern Florida shouldn’t be considered part of the US, it doesn’t function anything like the rest of the world. I missed out on so much growing up without seasons.

Aside from northern visiting I went home briefly and saw u2. Seeing a living pop icon is definitely a surreal experience. I’ve seen u2 in the media so many times before that when the concert was finished I couldn’t decide whether I felt like I’d actually seen them, or if it was just another benefit concert on MTV. Really great show though.

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I picked this up at the Death Cab show on Halloween, I’m pretty sure it’s hand silk-screened. I love it.

Oh and ATTENTION EVERYONE COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS. Bonfire on the beach. Anyone is more than welcomed to come, just reply or get in touch with me so I can figure out a good date.

(3 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[31 Oct 2005|11:40am]
Oh yeah, I definitely got a job. I work for the Department of Veteran’s affairs in the Registrars office at school. It’s not bad, I have a lot of free time to study, the people are nice, I only have to work 15 hours a week and if I have a test they’ll let me bail on short notice, and since it’s a work study my pay isn’t taxed. I’ve been working for two or three weeks now, I needed to do something with all that extra free time I had not having class Monday or Friday. We're about to have an office party. Everyone made food and it's all tropical themed. It's kinda cute, lol. Death Cab and Halloween are tonight, I’m pretty happy about that.

(9 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[31 Oct 2005|11:32am]
So here’s the deal. I can transfer to UF for their Interior Design program with an AA from UCF. I have to take Applied Physics, Pre-Calculus, and Technical Writing within the parameters of my AA. OR, if I don’t get into the Interior Design program, I can either stay here or transfer to UF and get my degree in Education. Under Education I have to take U.S. History 1492-1877, 1877-Present, Intro to Philosophy, Finite Math, and Statistics in addition to what I’m already taking. So if I take all the required courses that both these majors necessitate, I’ll be in a comfortable position my sophomore year. I still don’t know what I’m better suited to do. With Interior Design I would get a Bachelor of Design, and with teaching I could get a Masters. Teacher’s salaries begin between 39,000 and 44,000 a year and Interior Designers begin between 22,000 and 40,000, but if I eventually owned my own firm I would make around 100,000 a year. Money worries me in concern for having a family and providing. With Interior Design I would be all over the place, and I would be working for commission. Teaching plants me somewhere with built in vacation time. I really like both of these professions, but I feel like I won’t know for sure until I attempt either of them. So maybe if I do get into the Interior Design program I could double major or minor, then I would be free to go either way at any stage of my life. Basically what I’m saying is I need to visit Gainesville and see if I really want that. UCF is a really nice college, but I feel like it’s a platform for moving upward. It is what UF was twenty or thirty years ago. I feel like it will inevitably become a fairly respected college but, at this stage, I don’t know how seriously I would be taken with a degree from here. Any input?

(58 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

i got sucked in [21 Oct 2005|04:24pm]
Leave your name and:
1. I'll respond with something random I like about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I'll name something we should do together
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me (or just me).
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll leave you a quote that is somehow appropriate to you
7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal. You MUST!

(15 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

welcome to thunderdome, bitch. [18 Oct 2005|07:13pm]

Visiting home was lovely. I didn’t realize I missed being home as much as I did until I was actually there. Being able to wake up in my room and wear a bathing suit without creepy old men honking, walking to the beach, jet skiing, good company, driving on a1a, kitties, and my lovely mother are what I missed the most. My mom is cute and tweaked my room a bit while I was gone. She made this gorgeous shell mirror, got new sheets, and cute little I miss you projects like that.

Tsunami has liver problems. The vet gave us pills for her but if they don’t help she’ll probably have to be put down. I wish she would get better, I would really miss my snuggle buddy.

Deland this weekend was pleasant as well. Sammie is SUPER pregnant and Joe, Hope, Mitzi, and Margie were all having birthdays. Jeff and Uncle Mark are involved in an invitational golf tournament and last I checked they were playing 73 and 75 when par is 70. I don’t know loads about golf but that impresses the hell out of me. At the hotel they were staying at we watched this huge traditional Scottish wedding. The men were all in kilts and definitely flashed us the goods from the pier. I want a fun wedding like that, nothing uptight and robotic. It feels so unfamiliar approaching a family gathering so willingly. I am now in charge of the duration of my stay, what a concept. When I got home I made a big trip to Joann and stocked up on the goods.

I still want to write a children’s book, one with creepy monster main characters, and trips to the dentist, and gaining self confidence. I also want to start one of those mail projects where you circulate a book through the mail and each person it goes through is in charge of one page. I would at least like to be a part of one. I wish I had the patience to make Luette Scarves. They’re so nicely made.

I'm just so starved for projects lately. I think I invested too much into the idea of college being a life altering experience. I’m still the same; still blindly stabbing at an idea of what I may want, but cannot yet define. How is it that I attended a school for seven years that was designed to accelerate the process by which I discovered ways to successfully work with talents I had, and I still seem to be the only undeclared Dreyfoos kid in the entire US? oh GOD the whining. I half heartedly wish we ran our basic education system in a similar fashion with the Chinese. Test me, tell me what I can do, and then give me the classes that will make me excel in that area at such a young age I never have to lie in this indeterminate state. Boo, negativity leaves such an awful taste in my mouth.

(8 goldfish | feed the goldfish)

[07 Oct 2005|04:05pm]
home for the weekend.

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