hey blog :,)
i've been looking forward so much to this point in my day-- when i can finally write. i've lived lives in the past couple of hours and can't wait tell you about it. it's so, so good to sit here...
there's an epic tale to be told: my weekend. first, we begin with the journal entries.
i may believe that they are worth typing out after all.
a jot from last sunday evening reads: "god I am stressed I feel it barging against all the sides of my body like Im an empty pot with a rabid animal caught inside."
friday night: "Im feeling much better now. I was PMSing then. When I got my period it was like the sky cleared, birds starting chirping, the grass'd never shone so green. Still in the meadow I am--- its springtime, says my body, says the world!
Im on the bus. The sun has not yet set! And its almost 7, I pass an abandoned gas station with enough light to see it all perfectly- not that anybody's paying particular attention to the time of day. On the walk to the stop, I just wanted to sing "You're so Vain," so I did over & over. (And now I get the chance to watch the sun set onto the buildings upon Heath Street. A lucky gal am I, at the back of the hill.) Doing it so I can feeling my chest rattle. Feels good, the deep vibration. Oh, to make sound beautiful & true. into country since I got my guitar back :^)
I have an unbreakable optimistic outlookpost, currently. On a different bus; someone opened a window in the back. Better than any sex I've had in the last year (and what was that, really?) It's darker now. "I had some dreams there were clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee."
My neck is finally warm enough that I can look up. The 66 coming under the bridge-- crystal. The C stretching down all of Beacon. Trees as black stick figures, about to largen!
A week & change ago (last Wed, exactly 1 weeks before I started bleeding) I said out loud in my classroom 'I must be in that part of my cycle.' It's real. All. Thinking about a memory with an old friend. REDACTED teaching me how to sing-- I'm on all 4s, he's gently pushing on my back & giving directions, barking orders, whatever. Ive truly gone to great heights. For the craft.
Love that theres no reason but me to be friends with REDACTED, REDACTED, REDACTED, REDACTED.[*]
I hope to move to Allston."
[*] the first and last names of some lovely friends of mine.
And that's how the journal entry ends. I was taking 2 buses and a walk through Harvard campus to get to the boys' apartment. I didn't have to wait too long at either stop. I had the most lovely time.
We drank, were merry. Gave a what's-in-my-bag (forgot to show the knife). Showed off my newest creation (slideshow in embarrassing detail 2025's season camping/backpacking trips that I'd already planned). Put on Cyrano, was nothing like what I remembered. Shoutout daughter #1 though.
At some point, found myself in a stranger's apartment, which bore not-so-shocking detail to the boys'. I had said I was in the mood for a "challenge." Then I was winning at hide-and-seek, too well.
{She was European (sue me for forgetting the country, her accent and face were both beautiful, and I don't think I was seeing straight) and she was staying with a friend in town for a conference. Maybe at MIT. She was presenting on war, liberation... and something else. I'm an idiot for doing nothing about this, I know. A really dumb high-level mistake? Do I slap in God's face? Perhaps the cost for living so brash and ungratefully I will be damned to hell. Not there yet, I suppose. Basking in my own ignorance and the apparent fullness of my life. I thought about all this after the fact as I walked amongst the bare willows. But we're not there yet in the story.] [I can't believe she invited me into that apartment. Love that I said yes. Warrrmer.}
Crashed on the couch. Perfect blanket-pillow combination. Was so crossed it probably all took about 90 seconds to enter kateworld_dream. Got to eat fresh banana bread upon awaking (early! blessings.) Had unironically one of the best cups of Earl Grey ever. Stared out of a sunny window and laughed. Took the train home.
The walk through Somerville in the morning was lovely. Not many people out, but the sun. Opted out of my bison fur packable insulated jacket. Just the fuzzy 'gonia, some shades. Made a note to pack a hat, and a beanie. Texted my cousins and sister that I can't wait to have them here, that I just love living here so much. I'm watching the time with deeply contented awareness, knowing volleyball will start in a few hours.
I pick a flower up off the sidewalk near a gas station I thought I'd remembered. It was perfect. It managed to only lose a few petals on the way home. It's drying in some folded parchment paper under our large living room side table book. Nobody knows it's there, yellow and still.
When I got onto the red line again, I read the Wikipedia page for "particle." I did get worried. I looked up online physics degree programs. I could probably transfer some credits to ASU. Their chatbot said I'd just need to send over an official transcript for review. Alright. Keeping that in my back pocket, as I continue to think about atoms more than I ever have in my life, most days.
Becoming a science teacher has made me altogether more interested. And more interesting, I figure it goes. (This doesn't have to be about me: Isn't that how people are interesting? They're interested in something? They are inclined in a particular direction; their tilt it fascinating to witness?)
I digress. Many more magical things happened; allow me to continue. I wrote in my Wittgenstein book on the orange line, finally laying down the problem I've been chasing recently. I also parsed the many markings I had made inside Elements of Style as a high schooler, all of which come to a sudden stop on page 52. Outside again, I read in its entirety the stone engraving outside of the Forest Hills T station. Tell me why it was wholly entertaining. Funny, short. Will want to pick up the full work soon. Will have to walk back to catch the author's name. "Lies" it's called.
I walked home through the Arboretum, along Willow Path. Picked up a stick on the way, glad all the while to have my (largely cigarette) hangover gone and almost back in my room with a perfect amount of time & energy to get ready. I thought about where I would pick up a sandwich before volleyball, deciding my route. A group of young girls approaches with their guardians, one of them in a silly dress. They're all holding sticks, too.
As soon as I got home I put the dishes away and loaded the dishwasher partially once more. I brought my laptop out to the kitchen to play music. I brushed my teeth.
Getting re-dressed, out of premium gorp-core, I selected a high-neck (repurposed, children's) tank top to account for the wicked sunburn I got last Saturday on my chest. Got compliments on my all blue monochrome fit, I blush under brown sunnies. Someone said I looked like a coach with my old apartment keys around my neck. Can't lose those ! I made warm green tea to go, feeling proud. My bag was already packed from the night before, just had to fill up my water bottle. I don't let my car warm up anymore; I peel off quickly and we're going.
City Feed was alive, and I was grateful to find they had a parking lot (who knew!) I order the #1, smoked turkey, then went to check out their fruit and find a bag of carbs. An orange & popcorn. Paid for it all while every single person behind the counter was hot. It was almost 12.
I take a new route there, thinking I'm being efficient-- I was. Perfect parking spot, someone else pointed out. A friend tells me the world's coming up Kate. It's another great day.
Peppering to warm up was a delight. So many balls to share so everyone was spread out having sweet conversations and getting warm, literally. We had to move the second net because of the mud, at which point we could have 2 separate speakers, which we would keep running all day. Take your pop pick-- 80s or y2k?
Eventually we moved down, so fast with all those hands-- suddenly everything is gone. We're so back, I thought, as we walked down, down the stone steps. It's the park that contributes something to this, too, noted.
We played until 7pm. The sun's angle shifted every couple of hours, as my voice grew and my body sunk into the entirety of the space. In the last hour I put on a t-shirt to trap some air as an insulate.
It was smart to bring a sandwich, but I didn't munch nearly as much as I'd thought I would. The orange, though, I nearly swallowed whole at some point in the afternoon. Popcorn bag remains unopened-- a fair sign. There was a point at which I had to actually get myself to stop, realizing I wasn't putting as much energy onto the court that I could. This was, of course, because I literally lacked the calories, so I sat out and digested, angsty as the minutes ticked by.
It gets funner as the day goes on, as the music becomes home-grown, as onlookers settle into a picnic formation, even as we migrate to one court. Then I realize what gets me most of all: joking around with your friends :) I laugh a lot when everyone's together, which makes me happier, which makes me yell, which makes it funner.
As we pack up (I've learned how to do the bounds!), I tell a group, candidly, that 'my heart lives here.' This is precisely how it felt to be me after 7 hours of volleyball at McLaughlin Park. I certainly didn't want to stop, making a frowny face as someone calls to take down the net at the end of the final set. It will come again, I tell myself. In imagining a more ideal world, looking to the sinking sky, I wonder how much time we would really have until we'd not be able to see any longer. It's such a romantic relationship to have with time, out there on the grass volleyball court.
I didn't sunburnt like last time, but the radiation did do that thing to my face that makes my skin look great.
After volleyball, I called my nana, who didn't pick up, so then an old friend. "Dude, it's so good to hear from you." We talked all through the short drive from Mission Hill to Trader Joe's, through my grocery shopping (high on endorphins and chat I receive shamelessly through airpods, I chuck a ton of food into my cart), through the drive home, putting food away, rolling a joint, and smoking it, walking up and down the block, to the middle of the pond and back. We hang up as I approach my house again, it being dark-for-real now. I'm still wearing my blue outfit from vball, w/ the navy crewneck. A beautiful thing to wear shorts into the night.
We discussed many important things deserving of a blog post entirely to themselves. I've written these things down in my notes app as a bulleted list, along with other realizations of late, many of which they inspired. At the bottom of that note, which I wrote earlier today, it reads: "journal later: recount events of weekend starting with journal entries. !!" I am but a slave to my past selves.
There's only a bit more to this retelling. The rest of my Saturday night consisted of calling nana back again, then dad, and texting a friend as I heated up some chicken mole and only ate half.
Something Adam said on our call ("being in the world!") got me to want to re-investigate Dasein, so I put on a PhilosophizeThis episode about Heidegger that I found absolutely breathtaking as I showered, scrubbing dirt off my knees. I thought about the myriad ways the world had been ready-to-hand for me all day, how even the water now was part of my existence, as would a pillow and sheets be soon.
I grabbed Aho's chapter on Being-in-the-world, but found it unsatisfactory. It sucks that Heidegger was a Nazi. I'll have to do additional work to figure out how exactly that squares.
For now, I latently wonder (not too hard!) about how much of my inclination to make things present-at-hand ruins my life. Don't have a number on that yet, sorry fellas.
This morning I got brunch with an old friend in a new neighborhood (lovely) and afterwards sat in the sunniest dining room chair to get some work out of the way before dark. Ellie called as my productivity was dwindling, and we talked for almost 2 hours. I didn't move from my chair, but I giggled a lot. At many points I truly laughed. I miss her.
A secret was shared then/ A realization, large and sweet. My own ego takes a nap in the delicate folds of a new thought.
I have a new vision for my room, and it's almost done being seen to. It's a studio. We have a party coming up later this week. I will have become a better version of myself before then. It should start with a brown tank top.
More to come. Don't doubt.
All the best,
Kate
sunday march 23 2025 9pm-1230am
