I met a new type of crazy today while sitting at a bus stop. He was a homeless person. Granted, some of those are pretty out there, but this went beyond the normalities of asking (or demanding) change or just being a tad mentally ill. You could see it in his eyes...I couldn't stop looking at them...they had a weird intelligence. (And when I say weird I mean in the sense that there was something terrible and supernatural about them...) I took this Greek Myth class over the summer...there's this one story about Cassandra who had the gift of prophesy but also the curse that no one would ever believe her (she TOLD the Trojans they were going to lose...but did they listen? Noooooooo....) I think this man is sort of like what she would look like. Hmmm....minus the threadbare sweater and the shopping cart...so on the off chance that this particular crazy is actually right (and I was tempted to be frightened into believing him myself) I will do you all the kindness of telling you what he says so you might take the necessary precautions...and because, retrospectively this is sort of funny...I couldn't hear everything though because he was very soft spoken and there was traffic but here goes...

I was walking in a feild and came to something...right on the ground in front of me it was the pool, small and round...I visited them...I like your clothes, your jacket here...but, you see, the shape of your shoulders, the jacket. It makes it so they can see you from the trees where they are (points to trees) they hide there. Then it's transmitted to the sky. When I was up there, you see, they couldn't tell I was gone. that's funny isn't it, you know? etc. etc.

So if any of you happen to own a sort of dust-colored four-pocket jean jacket with metal snaps (that you, incidentally, got on sale...) you'd better build yourself a fallout shelter. Or wear a lead smock or something. Because they can see you through the trees.

Ah yes my friends, The Portrait of a Lady sits on my bed and stares me in the face. And what do I do? Sit here. At my computer. Procrastinating with my Blog. (Such a silly word by the way...blog blog blog...go on, say it out loud...this web site is not only fun and educational, but ineractive as well...) So anyway, for the edification of my readers (perhaps I'm putting on airs making that word plural) I will recreate a most tragic tale of hypocracy that happened today in my English lecture. A story of a young girl, whose name has been changed to prevent embarassment, who comes to terms with her own vices...

Student:(typing onto lap top) Aug. 26, 2002. Eng 45C Lect. The Proffesor takes stage. One of those nervous, bubbly types. She hunches her shoulders and squints her eyes occasionally for emphasis, sort of like she's caving into herself or trying to hide...(clickety click, etc. from the keyboard)...She attempts to create a feeling of membership, leaning in for little intimate asides with her captive student audience. I think this woman is a Christian. (clickety click, etc...) She must not like herself, (clickety)
Student scrutines Proffesor further.)

Kate: (is distracted by incessant clicking and peers over row of seats to read what Student writes.) Aside. Nervous?! Bubbly?! She's just a nice lady! Vivacious even! VIV! AY! CIOUS! And you think she's INSECURE because she LEANS FORWARD?!?! What the hell's the matter with you?! You and your little CLICKEY KEYBOARD?! Who are you to judge? Oh, you're one of those tortured artists, are you? Feel the need to comment on every little thing, do you? Everyone else is just SO bourgeios pedestrian middle class to you, AREN'T THEY?! I bet you think you're the world's foremost undiscovered literary GODDESS, huh? Typing away all day at people. Ewww. You disgust me. I would never be so judgemental. Never.
(After a reflective pause...)
Oh, how the mighty have fallen...

There now, moving, wasn't it? I'm going to go read Portrait of a Lady

Okay. So School. School starts tomorrow. Can you smell the anticipation? Go on, take a whiff. Two English classes and God knows how many Music classes I'll end up taking. If, in about two weeks, you catch me dribbling in a corner mumbling something about Bach, don't be alarmed. That sort of thing is normal. No, but really, it will be fun. Cheers to the new year.

Hi. Wow. So this is my very own Blog. Great to be here, yeah. I figured I'd start one because everyone else has one and they looked pretty cool. (Speculating that I'm one of those sheep that goes along with the herd, eh? Well I got news for you, Mister...bbaaaaaaaaah baaaaahh...) Actually I'm planning to use this as a future procrastination device for the upcoming school year. More on that later...