The Wackness

Well… for some reason I always kept this up and running. So, hi! It’s me. Three years later. And what a hell of a three years it has been. But I’m still here.

So…what can happen in three years? A lot. Heartbreak, depression, betrayal, abandonment, loss. All negative words, but through all of that I grew stronger in myself, my confidence, my people, being alone, and being unapologetically who I am.

Now we live in a time of weirdness. Quarantine and 2020. What a time to be alive.

I’m still me, feeling all my feelings and all of that, but ya know, more confidently. Guess what? There’s nothing wrong with showing emotion or having feelings. People who love you and care about you AND don’t care if you need to text them 8 separate, but detailed texts about a situation and how much rage you want to let out by punching that guy in the face. If they’re really your friend or family, they are going to slash the tires for you.

What I can say that I have learned is that time is your most valuable commodity. Don’t waste it on anyone or anything that doesn’t have good intentions, won’t provide you with a worthwhile experience, or be something you know you will regret in the future. Spend it with/on people you love and care about but don’t forget to keep doing the things you love and care about. F*ck everyone else.

And that’s why I’m here writing again. In the days of quarantine and mandatory shelter at home, I have plenty of time to do all of the things I love, like paint and write. Since I am given this time, I want to use it wisely to continue growing, taking care of my skin, working out, eating well, and just generally enjoying every day given. One of my best friends has a theory that the older you get, and the more you lose touch with doing the things you love will lead to your wackness. I’m here to tell you my friends that I am not about to ever be wack.

“It’s no wonder we’re all such a mess, is it? We’re like Tom Hanks in Big. Little boys and girls trapped in adult bodies and forced to get on with it. ”
― Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

P.S. High Fidelity is one of my favorite movies and if you haven’t watched the updated version on Hulu, you are totally missing out. Now someone make me a playlist.

P.P.S. If you haven’t watched The Wackness, you’re missing out on a dope movie.

Cause I’m Just a Girl (A rant)

Let’s talk about my day today, or more specifically, the most uncomfortable 20 minutes of my day or perhaps even month so far. Oh, and hi! I’m popping in to rant for awhile…

I took a short break to go to the post office to mail a package. Sounds like a very simple and easy task, right? I go in and there isn’t a line! There was a worker sweeping who walked into the office behind me and then it all went downhill. There was a girl at the counter trying to pick up mail. There were two older men behind the counter and the one that followed behind me. I get in the line and wait. And wait. And wait. It took all three men to help the girl, but really all three men were standing around to talk to the girl, but mostly at and about the girl in front of her face. I started paying attention to the conversation when I heard them say to each other how she was “well maintained” because she had her nails, toenails and hair done. Followed with comments about how “most redbones come in looking a mess”. This is all happening while the girl is still at the counter trying to get done what she went in to do. Insert her polite laughter here. Exit girl. My turn!

I walk up to the counter and one man says to the other “this one came in looking correct too.”

Excuse me?

All I want to do is mail my package sir.

And so I grin and bear it, but really on the inside I am cringing. I am thinking of a million not nice things to yell. A friend suggested that I should have started criticizing the men to my invisible friend.

I’ve been thinking about this experience all day. And talking it over with a lot of my friends. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. I know it won’t be the last for me or all my lady friends. I’ve realized that as a woman, these daily experiences are so common that often times we don’t think twice about them. And that is sad.

I can’t tell you how many times I have been yelled at at the gas station. I loathe having to stop for gas because of this. It isn’t the catcalling that is the issue in my experiences, its what happens afterwards. The slur of unpleasant names that generally follow because I don’t acknowledge the “compliment”. In reality dude, I’m just trying to put gas in my car because I’m in a hurry to go somewhere. I do not like talking to people at the gas station because I am minding my own business. Got things to do, places to go. I do not like people approaching me because I am usually a female alone and it makes me uncomfortable. When I first started driving, two men approached me at the gas station in my hometown and tried to talk me into coming over to their van. Thus began my hatred of stopping for gas.

Or there was a time when I first started driving. I drove my sister and a couple friends to lunch (because I was the only one that could drive at the time) at The Peach Stand in the middle of Fort Mill. In the middle of lunch, a friend realizes a man that seated himself across from us was exposing himself to our entire table.

I am 32 and I still haven’t figured out how to navigate these situations. Grin and bear it seems to be the norm because it is such a common occurrence. Do I do this as a female because it’s ingrained in me that I’m supposed to be nice and polite? Do I do it because it’s the quickest way to get out of the situation? Do I do it because ultimately my safety is priority and who wants a scene?

I am only speaking from my personal experiences, but from my friends and I have shared with each other, I imagine countless women endure the similar situations every day.

All I wanted to do was just mail a package.

End rant.

Let’s Get Weird (An Ode to 2016)

I’m just going to state the obvious, 2016 has been a weird year.

It started out well, but then was like “oh wait, nevermind!” It’s been a roller coaster ever since, but I just keep on, keepin’ on. Here I am, a little over a year later, writing again. Miss me?

Overall, it was not a terrible year. Personally at least. Just one of those years that felt like for every step forward, there were two steps back. I traveled. A LOT. I moved. I don’t worry so much about grown up stuff, like bills. I painted, lots. I took on a leadership position at church. My faith grew stronger. I learned to let go control. I attempted to go on dates (and I hate dating).

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Speaking of dating, I have some thoughts on that wonderful topic (that everyone wants to ask about when you’re single and over 30)…

First of all, let me say, props to all the single ladies putting themselves out there that are looking for something real. No matter how optimistic you are (I’m the annoyingly optimistic type) dating in 2016 really starts to wear on you. Approach with honesty and catch bullshit. I naturally trust people until they give me a reason not to, but most people operate in the other direction. I guess I’ve never done things the most conventional way. “Catching feelings” is a bad thing. People are cynical, guarded and downright selfish. Walls have been built, because at this point, we’ve all been through some kind of past relationship hell. Those are your shoes, these are my shoes, we got issues.

Then, IF by chance you meet someone with potential, you often get one of the many lines you have probably heard by now. The “I’m too busy for a relationship right now” or “I’m not ready” and “I’m not looking for anything serious.” It gets exhausting ya’ll. I understand why people quit the game.

“Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up”

Which leads me to the deeper idea that I’ve been tossing around in my head and trying to reconcile with. It may not be in God’s plan for me to have a partner in life, because we all aren’t promised someone. This idea puts me in a place of tension. Liminal space that I am still coming to terms with. I want to have have someone to build, grow, support, go on adventures, and do life with. Maybe it will happen, maybe it won’t. And I’ll be ok with that. Because I’m not ok with just “hanging out,” “having fun,” or “just going with the flow.” I’m a cool girl, but not a cool girl. If you know what I mean.

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I can say I gained clarity about who I am and what exactly I want this year, plus some terrible dates to add to my ‘funny’ dating stories’ pile.

I’m just over here trying to live my life 2016, and you just want to hold me down. kthxbai.

Sweet Potato Pie and I Shut My Mouth (An ode to Maw Maw’s)

Hello, my name is Katie and I’m from South Carolina. There are many many reasons people think I should be ashamed to say that, but I’m not. Yes, I grew up in SC. No that does not mean I’m going to fulfill all of your preconceived ideas about a Southerner. Sometimes, I shake my head and think “C’mon SC let’s get this together,” and sometimes things happen that we handle with such grace that makes me incredibly proud of where I grew up.

Dolls and arts

The Willie sisters always raisin’ Hell

With the Great Grandparents

I spent my summer days with my grandparents and great-grandparents when I was young. I never wore shoes. I basically lived outside in the fields or woods. I played softball in the cow pasture, went swimming in the lake and picnicked under the Oak tree. My best memories are of shucking corn under the giant Oak at my grandparents house. Last week marked the end of an era. My grandmother moved out of her house that she has been in for over 50+ years. Land that she’s been on since a child. It’s a strange feeling when Maw Maw’s isn’t Maw Maw’s anymore. Here I learned about gardening and plants. I went fishing on lazy summer days. I colored, painted, crafted, let my imagination run wild. I heard stories of what it was like in the “good ‘ole days.” I had conversations about God, religion, the world, life, and soaked in wisdom from three generations.

My family is not rich. They have worked hard their entire lives, mostly in the mills. Rural, country, salt of the earth people. And proud. All of these things have helped shape who I am now. Family, history, a sense of where I am from. So farewell Maw Maw’s, you won’t be just across the pond anymore.

The head and the heart.

That thing is trying to creep back in again.

That old thing that likes to visit once in awhile. Except, it is rude and visits without a warning or even a knock. I’m not sure what to call it, but it likes to cause trouble. Trouble as in lack of motivation, frumpiness, loneliness, and all around funkiness. I’m not sure where it comes from, but no one wants those things at their party.

Once in awhile I start to feel stuck. A overwhelming feeling of what I’ve been doing isn’t getting me where I want to be. It’s a head versus heart thing. In my head I know it’s illogical, but sometimes my heart gets out of sync. They are currently not communicating.

So when I feel like I’m treading water and tiring out, I try to step back. Take a look, readjust. I like to get outside and remind myself how beautiful the world really is. And that things are not so complicated. I listened to an interview with one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. (Everyone should listen to this one) I felt kinship to her way of speaking about the peace she finds in being outdoors, paying attention, and really living. A spiritual peaceful energy exists in the space.

I am always in wonder when I come across things that I need to see, read, or hear during particular moments. It is a gift that is given if we are paying attention. I try to walk around in a sense of awe when possible. Sunsets, walks by the river, trips to the ocean, hikes up a mountain. In awe and being present. It is a reminder that these feelings can be fleeting and not controlling.

Recently, I went for a hike up the Pinnacle Trail at Crowders Mountain. I was still half-sick, but determined to. A lot of times I think I like hiking. During, I think “WHY AM I DOING THIS, OMG WHO DOES THIS FOR FUN”. When I reach the top I am reminded of why it was all worth it.

To see that faith, like hope, is a rope and anchor in a shifting world. Faith cannot be questioned, only lived.