I wish I had a talent. I'm not saying that so people will rush in and say, "But Kati, you are so good at (insert something I do well)!" because I'm not trying to say I am good for nothing. I just can't quite think of something I do well enough to say, "I am talented at (insert anything at which a person can be talented)!" Sure I have that neat parlor trick of crossing one eye, but I want something less.... useless.
The thing is, I can't even think of what I would want as a talent. I tried first thinking of things I already enjoy doing that could possibly be talents. After thinking for 5 minutes and coming up empty - and also ruling out the ability to think for 5 minutes when most people would've given up after 30 seconds as a potential talent - I realized that nothing I currently enjoy doing could be considered a talent.
I suppose I could have defined things better for you because you might read this and think, "Kati you take pictures of evvvverything!" or, "Kati you write a blog like every other day!" (which is to say photography and writing could be talents). And you'd be absolutely write but I don't do it really because I enjoy the act of photographing or writing; more or less I like documenting things. And I do not think documenting qualifies. That's not to say I have an abhorrence towards photography or writing. I haven't ruled them out as something I might want to focus on more. For now they just seem too obvious.
I did give reading a fair amount of consideration being that it's something I love to do and I can read real fast (this just keeps getting more and more pathetic, huh? my straw grabbing for a talent that is), but again - not quite sure how that could be a talent. I feel like in order to be a talent, then it should yield some sort of tangible evidence. Unless people would enjoy watching me read a book then it's just not a viable option. I suppose I could blog about the books I read, and discuss the allegory etc to whatever book I happened to have recently completed. The only problem there is I wouldn't know what the frick I was talking about. I can tell you whether or not I liked something, you see, but that's about it. Don't ask me to dissect why unless you want me to just spout out bullsh*t. As an aside, I'm good at bullsh*tting but that's not the type of talent you share freely. Any other activities I am fond of, and do well, are just too ridiculous to even entertain the possibility of them becoming a talent (eating, sleeping, going for as long as possible without washing my hair) so I nipped this train of thought in the bud lest I wind up bragging to my friends about how ain't no dirty haired sleepy eaters do it better than me.
Next I tried to think about things I do not currently do but would perhaps like to do. This was a bit easier because the possibilities are unlimited, in theory. I can think all day long about things I would like to give a shot. It's actually putting those thoughts in to action that is the proverbial wall that I must climb. So keeping that in mind, I attempted to narrow my list down to things that were possible talents for me, specifically. That is, things that are reasonably within reach. My top 3 picks are: cooking (eating may not be a talent, but I'll find a way to work food into this somehow, just you watch), painting (or drawing or anything that produces some type of "art work") and music (as in playing an instrument of sorts - I'm leaning towards piano since I did take many years of lessons as a child).
The latter is a bit more difficult because my Daddy got rid of my piano like 4 years ago so I don't have one anymore. It's not like I could just go out and purchase a piano and if I end up not playing it, then oh well, no big deal. Neither of the former two would be as difficult, although I've never really tried either one. I mean, I have prepared meals for myself before but I am not so bold as to say I cook. I think if there is one "but" it's that cooking doesn't seem very practical for me. I have a bizarre eating schedule, and normally I always eat on the go. I say that with a certain level of half-assedness though because talents aren't necessarily about practicality. I guess what I mean is that it may make little to no sense for me to come home and cook a complex meal for just myself, when I could just as easily heat up some soup. But if I enjoy cooking, and it was something I could do well, that's about all the sense it needs to make I suppose.
As far as painting (or "arting" which is a word I just made up to include painting, drawing etc) I think I would definitely enjoy this a lot. I (like to think I) have a creative mind. I can come up with things in my brain. I just have a hard time transferring that onto paper, to share with others. I always felt like "arting" was a skill you'd have to be born with, and if you weren't then oh well. I certainly wouldn't look at any artwork of mine (be it things I did as a kid in art class, or any of the random ms paint pictures I draw when I'm bored at work) and say to myself, "Man I am like... the next Picasso or something" But lately I've started to realize that when it comes to "arting" there's not quite a wrong or right way to do it; it's always debatable as to what is or isn't "good art" Now, just to back pedal a bit, I don't disagree that some people think being able to smear paint on paper is all it takes to be an artist. I just mean that when it comes to "arting" different people appreciate different things so I shouldn't be so quick to think it's something I could never do.... right?
Something else I think about is exactly why I want a talent. I don't want to put the cart in front of the horse and dive in to something just so I can say, "Everyone! Come look at how good I am at this activity" I just wish I had something to offer to.... well, to anyone really. Just something to show the world, "Hey I made this" And saying that makes me realize that I'm focusing on more creative avenues where I can make things. Maybe I have a talent that isn't so obvious and I don't realize it for that very reason. Nahh. I think that's probably the difference between strengths & talents. Like, the fact that I can and will talk to complete strangers with ease isn't so much a talent as it is a strength of mine. Or maybe I don't know the definition of talent. Eh. Whatever.
So I haven't really come any closer to having a talent. At least I've got two things I would like to venture in to. Now, I just have to recruit someone willing to try my food experiments and also be a nude model for my paintings.... wait, what? It should be assumed that's the type of "arting" I'd do. Along with bullsh*tting on that list of talents you don't really talk about, I'm also very skilled at the art of creepy. Heyoo.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
February 4, 2010
The thing I find most awkward about blogging is that sometimes it goes too far into the realm of, "I have something to say about everything and everyone needs to hear it because it will change their life" Most of the time I think it is not really intentional. A blog is a place where you can rant, gush, vent or proclaim anything about anything. So it is easy, and understandable, how sometimes the author's words can be viewed as something more than just thoughts put into text. Then again, there are definitely people who think that internet access, a blogger account and the ability to use big words from time to time is enough to qualify them as a bonafide expert on everything that ever existed in the history of the universe. I guess it's the same difference as someone who is confident in their views/ opinions, while being open to discussing opposing views/ opinions; and someone who can't even think beyond their views/ opinions, much less engage in intelligent conversations that involve opposing views/ opinions. Only with bloggers, we hide behind the safe glow of our computer screens so if a disagreement does occur, we can react without the fear of having our glasses punched off our faces (because let's face it, bloggers=nerds).
Anyway I'd like to think that the times where I might come across as a know it all fall more into the former category (unintentional; confident but openminded) than the latter (intentional; confident but narrowminded). Whatever I say, er, type in this text box is never meant to be the end all, be all. I never mean for it to be anything more than my thoughts about my experiences. I would like to think that someone could read one of my entries and go, "Hmmm, interesting" But I'd be just as happy if someone does NOT read one of my entries and think, "Geez, what an a-hole" (I suppose I'd prefer absolute silence over outright insults?) And, fingers crossed, people will be able to read what I have to say and absorb it with out interference from wondering how such a skilled wordsmith can also be so stunningly beautiful. But even if that's just not possible, if this blog serves no other purpose, I hope it breaks the stereotype that intelligence and beauty cannot coexist within a person (because let's face it, this blogger=BABE!).
So all of this is said as a disclaimer of sorts. I am going to try to udpate this thing more frequently, with more than just a recap of the most recent days of my life. That's not to say there won't be a fair share of entries discussing my weekends in insane, boring detail. I'm just saying, for those entries where I try to share my wizdumb, please take it with a grain of salt. I really mean no harm. However, if my words change your life, I will gladly accept your gratitude & praise. Zing!
Anyway I'd like to think that the times where I might come across as a know it all fall more into the former category (unintentional; confident but openminded) than the latter (intentional; confident but narrowminded). Whatever I say, er, type in this text box is never meant to be the end all, be all. I never mean for it to be anything more than my thoughts about my experiences. I would like to think that someone could read one of my entries and go, "Hmmm, interesting" But I'd be just as happy if someone does NOT read one of my entries and think, "Geez, what an a-hole" (I suppose I'd prefer absolute silence over outright insults?) And, fingers crossed, people will be able to read what I have to say and absorb it with out interference from wondering how such a skilled wordsmith can also be so stunningly beautiful. But even if that's just not possible, if this blog serves no other purpose, I hope it breaks the stereotype that intelligence and beauty cannot coexist within a person (because let's face it, this blogger=BABE!).
So all of this is said as a disclaimer of sorts. I am going to try to udpate this thing more frequently, with more than just a recap of the most recent days of my life. That's not to say there won't be a fair share of entries discussing my weekends in insane, boring detail. I'm just saying, for those entries where I try to share my wizdumb, please take it with a grain of salt. I really mean no harm. However, if my words change your life, I will gladly accept your gratitude & praise. Zing!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
February 3, 2010
Sometimes I go through phases where I purge things and start from scratch. For example, I just deleted all my blog entries. It's not out of anger, or sadness, or anything creepy like that. It's almost as if the memories or things I had to say no longer seem worth retaining. Ask anyone who was Live Journal contacts with me and they'll tell you while this may not seem normal by itself, it's definitely normal for me. Also, let's not forget I'm the same girl who deactived/ reactivated her Facebook no less than 4 times in 2009 alone. I should maybe stop that because, honestly, I would really like to read what Kati the Blogger had to say 6 years ago at the wise age of 21.
Anyway so here I am starting from scratch. I can't decide if this go round I want to take the "blog only when you have something to say" approach; or the "blog often about everything no matter how trivial" approach. Today, mostly, I just want to blog about Lucy Mae Bryant Robertson, the First. Today is her birthday, you see. I feel like some raging ball of hormones the way my mindset is shifting from fond remembrance of years that have passed or bitter resentment at years that will never be. I am also a jumbled up mess of what may be "wrong" thoughts, but are none-the-less very real. So I suppose this would be one of those "blog only when you have something to say" moments, I just can't quite articulate what exactly it is I do want to say.
Sometimes when I hear my friends talk about their Mommies, I get angry... or really, I get jealous. I'd be lying if at least once I hadn't been thisclose to snapping at them, accusing them of being insensitive. Conversely, I can't help but feel selfish at being upset over my Mommy passing away so early when there are people out there who had even less time with their Mommies; or even worse, had no time or relationship at all. I can't figure out who is "luckier" - me, for at least knowing what it's like to have a good, loving Mommy; or them, for not having to deal with how much it hurts to have it taken away. Actually, I do know the answer. I guess no one is promised anything, but it just seems more unfair that a child would have to go their entire life without knowing their Mommy. Also, I suppose on a good day (which I promise I have more often than not) I'm a firm believer that it's better to have loved and lost, blah blah blah - as an aside, I know that is typically used in a more romantic context but I think it can totally be applied to this as well. I guess in the end, it's all relative. To me, there's no pain more severe, more crippling, more likely to take your breath from you if you focus on it too much, than the pain of my Mommy's death. But that's the only pain I know. If Lucy hadn't been there from the beginning, even if I never knew her and all her cute personality quirks, even if I didn't have all the memories good or bad, I am sure the pain would be just as intense, although in a different way.
What's really crazy is that it's been nearly 4 years since she passed away. Even though I knew her 5x longer than that, sometimes she feels like a dream. I suppose all memories, regardless of what they're about, are like that. They become fuzzy over time and some are forgotten all together. It just seems odd that the general memory of having a Mommy would get fuzzy. Sometimes I feel guilty about it. As much as I miss her, I have to admit there are days that go by where I have to make a concious effort to think of her. I mean... I can't quite explain it. I'm always aware but it's sometimes beneath the surface, tucked away. I suppose that's how it works. Time passes by and you kind of get used to it. Then there are days like today where the pain punches me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. As silly as it sounds, that is actually somewhat comforting if for no other reason than it confirms I really did love her, and still do. I'd rather spend the rest of my days crying over her absence than I would simply forget about her.
And I guess that is what I meant by "wrong" thoughts. First of all, why should it be about my comfort? There's the sense that I'm not doing a very good job at honoring my Mommy because I feel like sometimes I focus on doing whatever makes it easier for me to handle. Second of all, I know - I mean, deep down I really truly get it - that I'm very fortunate to have had a good relationship with her, regardless of whether it was too short. So having said that, how can I be so emo? There has to be a balance. No, there is a balance, and more often than not I'm not so sad about it all. Some days are just harder than others I guess.
So. There's that. I promise my next blog, no matter what approach I take, will be a little more light hearted. Also if anyone is reading this and thinks for some bizarre reason, "I'd like to read this again a year from now" you might want to copy & paste these words somewhere safe because it's likely (if not inevitable) that this entry will be removed in the future, when I go thru another purge & reset phase. Maybe I am subconciously protecting myself for my future where I'm sure to be famous for... something. Type out some thoughts, get them off my brain, then erase them from existence lest I they be used against me down the road. Lucy would say it's because I can never make up my mind about things, and that I'm fluttery and never able to stick to any one thing, and she'd probably be right.
Anyway so here I am starting from scratch. I can't decide if this go round I want to take the "blog only when you have something to say" approach; or the "blog often about everything no matter how trivial" approach. Today, mostly, I just want to blog about Lucy Mae Bryant Robertson, the First. Today is her birthday, you see. I feel like some raging ball of hormones the way my mindset is shifting from fond remembrance of years that have passed or bitter resentment at years that will never be. I am also a jumbled up mess of what may be "wrong" thoughts, but are none-the-less very real. So I suppose this would be one of those "blog only when you have something to say" moments, I just can't quite articulate what exactly it is I do want to say.
Sometimes when I hear my friends talk about their Mommies, I get angry... or really, I get jealous. I'd be lying if at least once I hadn't been thisclose to snapping at them, accusing them of being insensitive. Conversely, I can't help but feel selfish at being upset over my Mommy passing away so early when there are people out there who had even less time with their Mommies; or even worse, had no time or relationship at all. I can't figure out who is "luckier" - me, for at least knowing what it's like to have a good, loving Mommy; or them, for not having to deal with how much it hurts to have it taken away. Actually, I do know the answer. I guess no one is promised anything, but it just seems more unfair that a child would have to go their entire life without knowing their Mommy. Also, I suppose on a good day (which I promise I have more often than not) I'm a firm believer that it's better to have loved and lost, blah blah blah - as an aside, I know that is typically used in a more romantic context but I think it can totally be applied to this as well. I guess in the end, it's all relative. To me, there's no pain more severe, more crippling, more likely to take your breath from you if you focus on it too much, than the pain of my Mommy's death. But that's the only pain I know. If Lucy hadn't been there from the beginning, even if I never knew her and all her cute personality quirks, even if I didn't have all the memories good or bad, I am sure the pain would be just as intense, although in a different way.
What's really crazy is that it's been nearly 4 years since she passed away. Even though I knew her 5x longer than that, sometimes she feels like a dream. I suppose all memories, regardless of what they're about, are like that. They become fuzzy over time and some are forgotten all together. It just seems odd that the general memory of having a Mommy would get fuzzy. Sometimes I feel guilty about it. As much as I miss her, I have to admit there are days that go by where I have to make a concious effort to think of her. I mean... I can't quite explain it. I'm always aware but it's sometimes beneath the surface, tucked away. I suppose that's how it works. Time passes by and you kind of get used to it. Then there are days like today where the pain punches me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. As silly as it sounds, that is actually somewhat comforting if for no other reason than it confirms I really did love her, and still do. I'd rather spend the rest of my days crying over her absence than I would simply forget about her.
And I guess that is what I meant by "wrong" thoughts. First of all, why should it be about my comfort? There's the sense that I'm not doing a very good job at honoring my Mommy because I feel like sometimes I focus on doing whatever makes it easier for me to handle. Second of all, I know - I mean, deep down I really truly get it - that I'm very fortunate to have had a good relationship with her, regardless of whether it was too short. So having said that, how can I be so emo? There has to be a balance. No, there is a balance, and more often than not I'm not so sad about it all. Some days are just harder than others I guess.
So. There's that. I promise my next blog, no matter what approach I take, will be a little more light hearted. Also if anyone is reading this and thinks for some bizarre reason, "I'd like to read this again a year from now" you might want to copy & paste these words somewhere safe because it's likely (if not inevitable) that this entry will be removed in the future, when I go thru another purge & reset phase. Maybe I am subconciously protecting myself for my future where I'm sure to be famous for... something. Type out some thoughts, get them off my brain, then erase them from existence lest I they be used against me down the road. Lucy would say it's because I can never make up my mind about things, and that I'm fluttery and never able to stick to any one thing, and she'd probably be right.
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