DON'T · GIVE · AWAY · THE · END

This is interesting:
Vajayjay or not to Vajajay?

Personally, I don't see anything wrong with genital euphemism, as long as you're comfortable with the word you're using. Jason from work says it sounds childish. Some people say it's degrading not to use to technical term, treating the word "vagina" like it's a bad thing. Marcia from work just says she hates Oprah. Oprah and Dr. Bailey from "Grey's" made the term popular.

Am I supposed to be angry about this? I think that's pushing it. Who says penis, either?

I saw Courtney Martin speak at St. Mary's last night. She's a feminist journalist/author who wrote a book about young women and body image. I liked her lecture, but it didn't sound like anything I haven't heard before. Maybe I'd feel differently if I had read the book cover to cover before going, but it was the same "rewrite your internal message" stuff that I've read in Cosmo, just in a different package.

I support anyone out there trying to tell young girls (hell, all women) they should feel better about themselves than they do, but I really wonder what it's going to take to make that internal, positive mantra permanent.

I, for one, obsess about every bit of food that goes into my mouth (and then work out like crazy to get rid of it or, if it's especially fattening, starve myself for the rest of the day), and it pisses me off that I'll probably always feel compelled to be totally nuts about the way I look to stay socially accepted.

It pisses me off that probably 95 percent of women fuck around with self-esteem issues so much that they spend literally half their lives either complaining to their friends, preening in front of a mirror or trying to figure out why they're not good enough for some guy to call. Like it's automatically our fault if the pants/shirt/guy doesn't fit. It always feels like our fault.

And even trying to analyze it sounds trite, because so many women have said all this before. So many people roll their eyes after hearing it, including other women. It really is horrible, if you think about it. It's rage-inducing to feel like you don't even belong to your own opinions or beliefs. It's horrible not to trust how I feel, because I don't know what's planted in my head and what's always existed.

So what's it going to take for us to feel better, to stop buying shit that makes us feel bad and to stop making each other feel worse? I don't know. I don't know that I'll ever get to the point where I can think of something to say that hasn't already been said. But it really makes me want to try.

It's been awhile since I've written anything in here. Life's been pretty busy lately. Um, work is pretty hectic. No matter how much I like doing what I do, sometimes at the end of the day it's just my job, something I have to get through until I go home. Nothing comes completely without bureaucratic bullshit. If I've learned anything about "real life" during my time here, it's that. But I'd say I'm happy here about 80% of the time. I think that's pretty good.

I wish I could say I could relate to the people I grew up with as well as the people I've met since college, but I think it's hard to shift the dynamic of a childhood friendship into one that works when we're adults. When we're young, we basically have to find the best people for us in a group of people that are thrown together based on where we live. When we're older, if we're lucky, we get to choose better fits out of a massive crowd of people. We don't have to settle on our friendships if we don't want to.

Not saying one is always better than the other, though ... It's like shopping at a boutique (smaller, less stuff is likely to fit you, but sometimes you find an unforgettable staple that lasts a long time. And if the staple gets ruined or lost, you compare everything else to its memory) compared to shopping in Target (more colorful, more fun stuff to look at, and the quality is usually okay. Stuff lasts for awhile).

I enjoy my friendships, but I realize now that they all unique to each other. It's just one of those things that happens, I guess, when we grow. When it comes to finding people that continue to make me who I am, it's become pretty clear to me that one size doesn't fit all.


Before I went off on my friendship tangent, I was going to mention something about Jeff. I am scared to even talk about him or type his name. I just feel like I've done this before, and it sucks when things don't work out. But it's been awhile since we met, and things are going well. I am not anyone's girlfriend, but I definitely have met someone I like to spend time with. He's cool, funny and handles me well. That's about all I have the strength to say :)

I was flipping through some pictures of college the other day (I have this huge box crammed with pictures from freshman and the early parts of sophomore year, back before I got a digital), and I couldn't believe how quickly the time went. I realized that awkward phases, mine in particular, are more far-reaching and longer-lasting than I had previously thought. My face was rounder, my eyebrows were thicker and my fashion sense was pretty appalling. Those things, the superficial and insignificant things, are the parts about college that indicate that I was at one time sweeter than I am now. I can't explain it except by maybe saying the best part of naivety is the utter lack of self-consciousness it causes. Once you learn that parts of you are not so much unacceptable, but unmarketable (so to speak), I think you kind of lose forever a pretty important part of youth that always leaves us before we can fully appreciate it.

I can nearly feel what it used be like inside my head when I first got to Loyola, the excitement about meeting new people and the trust I put into those near-strangers. When I was lucky, those people became my best friends. When I was unlucky, I lost everything, or at least parts of me that proved to be impossible to replace or recover.

So I flipped through those pictures. A series of nights that progressed from innocent, pot-laced buzzings to shrieking, emotional benders where I threw anger at every person I could collide with. Nights where I learned how to inhale, or shotgun a beer. Nights that ended in tattoo parlors. I laughed the hardest I've ever laughed in my life, those nights in that freshman dorm. Nights that ended in feeling closer to people by using methods that would ultimately keep us incapable of becoming real friends. Nights that ended in tears, in political discussions, in lying on the shores of Lake Michigan trying to keep the sand out of my eyes. Nights that started in cabs and ended in unfamiliar apartments. Nights that took me everywhere and nowhere all at once.

I got to the end of that huge stack of pictures and hoped like hell the other people in them cared about those nights, and felt them, and still feel them, as much as I did, and do, and will.

Boot camp is hard. Here's the latest video of what we've been doing: http://www.etruth.com/Know/News/Story.aspx?ID=420677

Some of us are gonna keep doing it for another month. It's neat seeing everyone look so amazing after such a short period of time. I can't wait to see what two months will do.

Blah. I'm tired today. I don't want to be at work. I want a lot of things out of my life and the energy to get ANY of them isn't quite present right now (from applying to grad school to going to starbucks to get a mocha). Maybe I just haven't had enough coffee this afternoon, but every little thing just seems out of reach.

I have to go on a story now. Then I'll write it, leave and go spend the rest of my day in sweat pants, lounging around and thinking about all the junk food I can no longer eat.

I met someone, maybe. But I am wary of men I meet in this area, because one of them could potentially keep me here for much longer than I had originally intended, or, heaven forbid, try to breed with me. This means I am constantly debating remaining dateless for the entirety of my stay here, which might be just a little unneccessary, or taking a chance on people who seem alright for the time being. I've never had to think about dating in this manner, i.e. something that HAS to be temporary or have an end point. I know it never works out that way, but I'm trying to stay alert, as if the guys who express interest are trying to ruin my life instead of make it better.
... Eh, I suppose I'll give this one a try.

To do by the end of the year:
1. get in shape -- on my way
2. Vegas -- in the planning stages
3. get a freelance piece in somewhere -- not even close, yet
4. GRE -- " "
5. (tentative) NYC for New Years Eve to meet up with Gretchen -- no idea, but would like to

To do by the end of the decade:
1. revisit London
2. get to grad school
3. figure out exactly what i want to do, where i want to live -- may take longer than 2.5 years ..
4. Seattle, NYC
5. Argentina!!

To do by the end of my life:
1. witness a miracle
2. visit Australia (drink, coral reef snorkel), Morocco (dance), Alaska (freeze), the Grand Canyon (tourist), Santa Fe (turquoise), China (pick tea, see panda)
3. love healthily
4. sox games, hard rock concerts and a car show or two with my dad
5. understand both moms
6. live in another part of the world .. again
7. be part of a movement


That is all for now. Weekend's soon!

On what I wrote last time: Some people will fail us, and sometimes it's because we failed them, and then it becomes time to let go, because nothing is going to be like it was. It's kind of as simple as that. It's a lovely case of karma. But Meredith said, "you lost a good person, but not a great relationship." Such an insightful girl. It took so long, but I'm moving along. I know it now. I'm not a perfect girl, but I think I'm pretty great. And hey, maybe a lot of boring, unfantastic people amount to one crazy, unpredictable me. And besides that, I think I'm learning from my mistakes. I really do. I swear.

Trim Down's going fantastic. Our personal trainer is awesome, tough and really good at motivating us. My body is sore and creaky but it's also getting A LOT stronger and a little smaller, which I like. We're almost halfway through the month and already everybody is visibly in better shape. It's so amazing to see. It's been a really great experience to do this with some of my coworkers. I feel pretty lucky to like the people I work with as much as I do. And I think we're all tough cookies. Low-fat cookies, but cookies nonetheless.

As far as reporting goes, lately I've been tackling school budget stuff. Numbers scare the crap out of me, but I think I'm handling things fairly well. The job's going well.

Life, in general, is really good. I'm not really expecting to go back to school, the way I thought I'd feel in August. I've pretty well reconciled myself with the fact that this is my life now, and I'm happy. I'm doing what I love! How many people can say that? It's fun. At the risk of sounding like an idiot, I do think it only gets better from here.

When it comes to relationships -- their endings, specifically -- I think we all reach a certain point where it becomes just our fault if things continue to drag out. Well, I've been at that point -- and have stayed at that point -- for months. MONTHS! Infuriating. I can't blame anyone else but myself for the frustration I feel.

It's frustration, not sadness or heartache or longing (well, a little). It's anger that I laid myself down to be walked all over when I should've been moving on. Anger that I did things all wrong in the first place to lose him. I'm so sick of thinking about the things I've done wrong, so the logical thing would be to walk away and start over. I haven't, not yet, because I want to win. Win what? I guess I keep thinking I'll win love back. But if I think about it further, I don't think what I want is love. I just want respect. I don't care if he loves me. I want him to look at me and not think he can take everything I've got. I want him to look at me and not believe he's better than me. Because I don't believe that's true.

I knew he didn't love me anymore when he started treating me like someone I wasn't, someone weaker. And I guess I don't know much about life or love or people, but I think no matter what, we have a way of sensing our worth in the eyes of someone else. No matter how much we want to change things or convince ourselves otherwise.

So, first life lesson learned: You get what you give. And if you don't give something worthwhile, there's a really good chance what you want the most won't come back to you.

And if you give something that means a lot and don't get it back, well, I'd say it's time to walk.

In fact, I think I'll run.

First bootcamp day down!

I did better than I thought I would, and I have so much energy. Downside: I'm going to be really, really sore tomorrow. The trainer said I should be down about 4% on my BMI by the end of the month, which would just be fantastic. It will take a lot of work, but the fact that we're doing this as a team should really help.

This is going to sound cheesy, but the human body is so awesome. When I realize how much I've been able to push my body in the worst ways, when I push it in the best ways it makes me not ever want to do anything to harm it again. Cheesy, again, but I feel really lucky to be healthy, and really guilty that I've done so much to not live like I appreciate it.

I think this whole thing will change my mindset by the end. Hope so. Yay, fitness.


The weekend was good, drinking and smoking and all the stuff I shouldn't be doing to excess anymore. I miss Chicago a lot, though. I think I'll go this weekend.

Here is a story I liked a lot that I worked really hard on, regarding the HPV vaccine:
http://etruth.com/news/NewsStory.aspx?id=417997

I just met with the boot camp personal trainer the Truth hired for us and got my fat squeezed. It was quite uncomfortable. But I'm excited. It seems like a lot of really hard work (really early in the morning! Eek), but I think it will be a good push. It starts Monday. I'm so ready to get rid of some weight, and I'm excited to have some fun with my coworkers.

*** This also means I have to drink less. That's probably a really good thing.

I'm on a huge Ted Leo kick! Awesome music. Love it. I've also listened to a lot of Rachael Yamagata, Beat Radio, and sort of revisited my old obsession with Stars in the past week.

Stars reminds me of sophomore year of college, staying up too late procrastinating and talking to Gowdy. I couldn't describe to you how much different life feels now. It's like, "man, I really knew nothing about life."

(I still don't, not really)

I don't really have all that much else to say, except for I'm having very typical frustrations about my job lately. Just, recently, it's gotten a little harder to like what I do, and that scares and pains me. That's I guess all I want to say. ... Oh, I might just be having a weird week. I generally love it. So who knows?

Everyone's walking around in workout clothes since we got our fitness evaluations. Tee hee. OK, final conclusion: the people are great, and the job just has stuff that comes with the territory.

Done.

I couldn't sleep at all last night. It was 4:40 a.m. when I decided to get up and go swim at the Y. I got there right when it opened.

I haven't been swimming in more than a year and a half, which is sick. I used to love it. It was weird putting my suits on. I always get a really tight knot in my stomach whenever I get suited up, reminds me of high school before practice or meets when I'd get so nervous I'd want to puke. The water was good to me, though, this time. I was scared it would resist or my lungs would give out, but the water was smooth and I felt like I was cutting through it. My muscles started burning quicker than they used to, but I just kept going, biting my lip like I did during hard sets, when Meredith or Beth or Jen would be tapping at my toes. Swimming is the best way to clear my mind ... I've never found anything else that comes close. Before I knew it I had done a couple thousand yards and I could barely breathe and I looked like hell and my head was completely free of the nagging thoughts that kept me up all night. I think I kicked them all out.

So now I'm at work, super-early, and I'm trying to find motivation to write one of my 3 centerpieces this week. Except I haven't slept all night and I overexerted myself in the pool. Oops.

I am kind of sick of people who call in about their honor roll children or writing really long e mails about the history of things like Concord's marching band. This is what reminds me to work really hard, so that I do not have to field these calls here when I'm 30. At least I could be fielding them in a bigger city.

I miss London a lot today. It's 4:30 p.m. there right now. I miss the sunny/rainy office at Black Spring Press in Shoreditch, listening to Roxette and drinking Friday wine with Gretchen, Robert and Alex. I miss the pubs, the weather, the people, the food, the Thames, the lights, Covent Garden, having Hugh Grant as a neighbor, the sweltering tube stations, the BBC, my professors, traveling, British boys and the people I met there. I miss it all. I wish I had tried to slow the time down.

Hi,

I am tired of waking up with the taste of cigarette in my mouth. My line is always that I don't smoke unless I'm drinking. But I still smoke too much, and it's gross and it's as addictive as they say.

I went to spinning class with Amelia and the only part of me that's sore is my butt from the seat. Not cool. Boot camp training starts Aug. 6 ... Yikes.

I am blond now. I like it. It makes me want to be obnoxious, constantly.

And hey Ant, your presence in my life probably won't ever stop leaving me fumbling for the right words to say (and I've had so many chances to try). I had so much fun with you last night, and it's refreshing to feel that even if we do grow up, we're probably not going to grow that far apart. To steal your amazing lunchmeat pun, olive you.

- katie

Everyone:
I get very tired around this time each day. I think I am addicted to caffeine; every time I try to go without it I get sluggy and headachey. I should own stock in Starbucks. Today is the first day I'm going to employ my new gym membership -- Amelia and I are going to a dance/exercise class tonight. Maybe exercising will take the edge off my assorted addictions. For the Trim Down we are apparently getting a boot camp personal trainer, early in the morning, in local parks? They're going to videotape us. That's going to be hell, but at least the results should be good.

I am going completely blond tomorrow. I went to high school with the girl who is going to do it, and her hair closely resembles what I want, so that should be safe. Unless she harbors a secret hatred for me. That could be possible but I don't think so. Wish me luck.

Today I am listening to Amber & Lori's playlists on Itunes. Some days I wait for Andrew from the copy desk to get here, because then I just listen to John Mayer and Modest Mouse and Spoon -- their new album "Ga ga ga ga ga (ga?)" is very good and I am in love with the title -- until it's time to go home. I'm sure this is all very interesting to you.

I finally finished the longest story I've ever written, today. It's probably too long. But I'm proud of it. I'll post it here for you when it comes out. It's about the HPV vaccine.

Jason and I worked the fair booth yesterday. In our bright orange shirts we resembled human road cones. The fair always draws out the best of Michiana, I think. Lots of stereotypes are embodied and usually it's roaringly funny. You know those snippets CNN/Fox/NBC show on obesity reports, of people's guts and butts? I'm sure they attend fairs for those shots. But hey, at least people around here aren't concerned with appearances, you know? Chicago and Elkhart are on the opposite of the pretentiousness spectrum. I need to find that happy medium someday. Anyway, we had Nelson's chicken then went back to the newsroom. It was a good day, minus the creepy Ronald McDonald and insurance bear. Jason is kind of my all-time favorite co-worker.

My aunts are very wise. I expressed my disappointment to one of them about someting having to do with the human race, and she looked at me with a sidelong glance and said, "You're lucky you're learning this early." I suppose she is right. I'd rather be disillusioned now and learn from it rather than do it all later. But it does make it harder to let people in. That's the only drawback.

I like Pat Benetar. Louis Jones, Sam told me you were doing okay. I'm glad.

I can't get started on my stories so I'm just gonna try to warm up a little bit. Don't even pay attention to this. Yes, look away now.

Brian, whoever you are, I like your Itunes playlist. It's a lot of the stuff I listened to as a kid: Fleetwood Mac, Elton John, U2, James Taylor, Van Morrison ...

... then there was Def Leppard, Dwight Yokam, Mick Jagger, Peter Gabriel. Brian, you don't have those. That's okay.

Sometimes I find new playlists from people I don't know on the Truth's server, and then I make up stories in my head about who these people are, what they like and what they do.

That's probably weird.


I think I like old U2 a lot more than I had previously thought, especially now that I have an elementary grasp of understanding Ireland's political history. A lot of their early stuff consists of clear anthems, heartfelt. When I was in Dublin everyone had a Bono story, about how he hangs out in a hotel along the river sometimes or how he will just pop into convenience stores and buy chips. I like that. "With or Without You" will always give me chills. I'm just sentimental like that.

Brian's got Sinatra on here, too, which reminds me of my dad. I should clarify: Not "now" dad, but "when I was young" dad. I don't think he listens to Sinatra much anymore, but it's all the better, because my Sinatra memories are strictly happy ones from childhood. But anyway, sometimes he'd put on "My Kind of Town" when he'd drive us over the Skyway on visits to Chicago. Or when he'd croon "It was a very good year" to me and I'd laugh ... I remember thinking for the first time about what my dad was like when he was young. Do you ever think about what if your parents had met someone else, and the person they had produced was not you? It's just a weird thought, the one person who separated me from everyone else I could've been (thanks Mom).

I finished the new/final HP last night. I read for almost 11 hours, because I knew I wouldn't be able to resume a normal life of TV/internet usage until I completed the damn book. It was good, but I won't say enough to spoil it for you.

Brian's got a lot of the Beatles, too. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club is my favorite Beatles album. I like how it feels tinged with something dark, like, you can tell they're not the same people they were from A Hard Day's Night.

Okay, that's all I have to say right now.
Katie