Posts
I feel like vomitting, my arms feel heavy like lead, I do not want to sleep.
Goodnight.
Sincerely,
Kyla
Monday, January 5, 2009
Ethan-pie-oh!
Ethan makes this picture so adorable. Snow you must go away! I'm already thinking about how horrible the walk to work will be. Iy yiy yiy. Out come the big rubbuh boots!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
"Another shitty day in paradise"
The palms trees are swaying and the sun is cascading on the balcony. I awake to a slight hint of sunshine every morning as a breath of fresh air lingers between the sheets. This is my first vacation with Payton.
There is a little taste of salsa on my tongue.
I can't recall what time it is, if it wasn't Christmas Eve I wouldn't be able to tell you the date either. I love these carefree days.
Shopping has been on the to-do list for the past couple of days we've been here. All the stores carry the same trinkets, necklaces, shot glasses, pottery - so it only comes down to bargaining when buying. I can talk my way into lowering a 30 usd ring to half it's price - possibly it's real worth. Yet I haven't snatched any goods. Even on vacation I still have this money conserving idea going on in my head.
The parents are on a walk, the boys are indulging in a game of Halo 3, and I sit - still out of words - at the lap top writing a well deserved blog.
I can't recall what time it is, if it wasn't Christmas Eve I wouldn't be able to tell you the date either. I love these carefree days.
Shopping has been on the to-do list for the past couple of days we've been here. All the stores carry the same trinkets, necklaces, shot glasses, pottery - so it only comes down to bargaining when buying. I can talk my way into lowering a 30 usd ring to half it's price - possibly it's real worth. Yet I haven't snatched any goods. Even on vacation I still have this money conserving idea going on in my head.
The parents are on a walk, the boys are indulging in a game of Halo 3, and I sit - still out of words - at the lap top writing a well deserved blog.
Sincerely,
Kyla
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
7-11 saved my life
It's gotten as ridiculous as this: I calculated how much I can spend until my next paycheck without taking money from my savings. This is what it's come to: two taquitos fresh from 7-11.
Friday, November 14, 2008
I want to dance again.
This is my first 'November Post.'
Days are becomer shorter, some are longer. Days on end I find myself doing the same repetive things. I have become a maniac at cleasliness. I sleep, and naps have become a must I begin to wonder why I never liked them when I was younger. Every now and then I'll take out the frying pan, some ingredient I've never seen and throw it together with salt and pepper in hopes of a meal. I have learned to cook.
I'm only eighteen - maybe most eighteen year olds are already used to this. But I have no time for myself. The time I have for myself is when I'm on the bus in solitude, ignoring every brushing shoulder and 'BACK DOOR' that bellows out of the slow pokes who don't make it to the exit on time. The time I have for myself is ... never. I'm always pre occupied. What does the next pay cheque go to? In class my mind will wander from discussing the Truman Doctrine to 'how will I divide my money up so ... or how many more shifts at work can I pick up so I'm not digging into my pockets for money, I must have already made holes in them.' One second I'll think I have time to go up and down Main Street marvelling at the local designers, and the next minute that's scratched out and replaced by another errand.
This is my get away. Writing is my get away. Dance was my get away. I want to dance again.
Sincerely,
Kyla
Days are becomer shorter, some are longer. Days on end I find myself doing the same repetive things. I have become a maniac at cleasliness. I sleep, and naps have become a must I begin to wonder why I never liked them when I was younger. Every now and then I'll take out the frying pan, some ingredient I've never seen and throw it together with salt and pepper in hopes of a meal. I have learned to cook.
I'm only eighteen - maybe most eighteen year olds are already used to this. But I have no time for myself. The time I have for myself is when I'm on the bus in solitude, ignoring every brushing shoulder and 'BACK DOOR' that bellows out of the slow pokes who don't make it to the exit on time. The time I have for myself is ... never. I'm always pre occupied. What does the next pay cheque go to? In class my mind will wander from discussing the Truman Doctrine to 'how will I divide my money up so ... or how many more shifts at work can I pick up so I'm not digging into my pockets for money, I must have already made holes in them.' One second I'll think I have time to go up and down Main Street marvelling at the local designers, and the next minute that's scratched out and replaced by another errand.
This is my get away. Writing is my get away. Dance was my get away. I want to dance again.
Sincerely,
Kyla
Friday, October 31, 2008
Cheers Darling!
Three bottles of perscription pills, two missed classes and days of work later I have miraculously gotten better. It will be a long time until I get my annual sickness again. Every year I find myself in some agonizing pain where breathing starts to become a chore. It's like Christmas, I'm always looking forward to it, and then anticipating for it to end. And every year it's a surprise. This year's illness was different from last years .. and the year before that .. it's happened ever since the breakout of chicken pox, age three. (Which by the way, is the most horrible thing a child will ever endure.) But alas! I am no long aching-mopy-teary-eyed-Kyla. Although ... I do need to catch a breather walking up the stairs at Burrard Station.
Have I gotten boring or just not as entertaining as I use to be. I would still classify myself as a ball of fun, I swear. But someone asked me what music I liked a couple days ago at work. This is how I would have answered a year...maybe two years ago: "Acoustic and indie artists. The really mellow yet diverse Damien Rice and Ben Harper, who can switch up songs on a single album about three times. Oh! and Cat Power, and Imogen Heap, she's a classic. Anything with lyrics that I don't necessarily have to relate to but I can take apart and put a meaning to." However, last week when I was asked the same question my response: "Uhm...I really like rap." Wtf? Right after I said that I didn't have anything else to say .. oh wait except for, "T.I.'s album is really good ... and L.A.X. Files too...." I was surprised with my thought provoking answer. I have failed every artist that I ever idolized and studied. Lyrics have become faint, and I have conformed to the majority of society's way of judging music. Good beat? Catchy voice? Danceable? if not, can I memorize the first two lines of the chorus? What have I come to.
BUT! I redeemed myself, well I thought I did. But I started singing part of a song Christie wrote years back, and that - that single moment I was entraped by that song I became me again.
Sincerely,
Kyla
Have I gotten boring or just not as entertaining as I use to be. I would still classify myself as a ball of fun, I swear. But someone asked me what music I liked a couple days ago at work. This is how I would have answered a year...maybe two years ago: "Acoustic and indie artists. The really mellow yet diverse Damien Rice and Ben Harper, who can switch up songs on a single album about three times. Oh! and Cat Power, and Imogen Heap, she's a classic. Anything with lyrics that I don't necessarily have to relate to but I can take apart and put a meaning to." However, last week when I was asked the same question my response: "Uhm...I really like rap." Wtf? Right after I said that I didn't have anything else to say .. oh wait except for, "T.I.'s album is really good ... and L.A.X. Files too...." I was surprised with my thought provoking answer. I have failed every artist that I ever idolized and studied. Lyrics have become faint, and I have conformed to the majority of society's way of judging music. Good beat? Catchy voice? Danceable? if not, can I memorize the first two lines of the chorus? What have I come to.
BUT! I redeemed myself, well I thought I did. But I started singing part of a song Christie wrote years back, and that - that single moment I was entraped by that song I became me again.
Sincerely,
Kyla
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