Wait. Wait. This is not my hat.
I am Katie. I go to grad school or something. I live in Virginia. You are now bored with this autobiography.
This is my Twitter, where I am annoying in shorter spurts.
This is my blog of poems and prose I like.
This is my blog of food that I've made.
Ask me a question here.
-
-
My son has a girlfriend.
That is all.
-
(Some of your replies to my posts lately have me thinking I should clarify something I don’t really want to talk about: Pablo moved back to...
-
Reasons I wish I was from The South
- Saying y’all all the time.
- Grits
- Sounding sincerely polite and friendly while being a bitch.
-
I accidentally bought Oreos with birthday cake filling
life is hell
Full of art, pizza, fancy cheeseburgers , Broadway musicals, guided tours, lights, and the faces of sneering locals, and with dead feet, brand new but quickly broken in Converse, half a dozen ticket stubs and skin gone haywire from the water, I finally say goodnight, New York. I damn well better see you again someday, you sexy bitch.
ok fine it’s Kelsey’s shirt I didn’t pack any green and it’s important that I stick out as an über-tourist at all times
Sassy New York lady who isn’t at all wearing a Kermit shirt!
I sincerely hope that at some point, I have passed or will pass you on the street, and didn’t or won’t even know it. Maybe you even overhear me and Kelsey talking about Dublin or fruit or penguin farts.
That seems, to me, like a perfect New York experience.
It’s St. Paddy’s in New York fuckin’ citaaaay!
I love you, Innernet
Guess this play has some guy in it or something.
If I die today, at least I will have known true love.
