kapachino

Author: Kathleen

  • The Photographic Evolution of an Injured Toenail

    This is going to be your favorite post of all time, I just know it.

    Right after it got bruised:

    The bruise painted over:

    Another soccer game cracked it open.

    I didn’t want it to get infected so I took the polish off. The blood underneath had leaked out.

    This time an indoor soccer game did the damage.

    Its final days:

    The moment arrives.

    And you know what? Losing a toenail isn’t nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be. Turns out that half of it has already grown back underneath. It’s not too pretty, and it’s a little tender, but a Band-aid fixes it right up.

    Happy Tuesday!

  • I Lost $182, But At Least I Have My Truck Back

    This morning I was awakened around 6:20 a.m. when it began to storm. I thought, “Ahh, what a nice morning to sleep on.” I knew that soon enough I had to get up and start work on my research paper, but it wasn’t time yet. It was raining pretty hard, and then I heard a strange noise outside my window. I just figured it must be hailing, and I actually thought to myself, “I’m glad my car is in the covered parking spot.”

    A little later on in the morning, my roommate Carmen went to go work out. When she came back she asked me, “Kathleen, where’s your car?” My stomach sank. I looked out the window and sure enough, it was not in the spot where I had parked it the night before. “Carmen, I have no idea where it is,” I responded. I went outside and looked around, called my mom to make sure no one in the family came to get it–she said she thought it was probably on its way to Mexico–and so I finally came to the sad conclusion that it must be stolen.

    I immediately called the police to file a report. My mind was racing. How much money was this going to cost me? How am I going to get anywhere? What did I have inside the truck? I loved that little thing. I was going to drive it into the ground. Was this really happening? After speaking with the police, I called my insurance agency. They were asking me a bunch of questions and while I was on hold Carmen and I began to talk things out. Through this process I realized that maybe my car wasn’t stolen–maybe it had been towed. So she ran to the apartment office to find out if they knew anything while I was on the phone. The insurance agent was in the middle of telling me what was going to happen when Carmen rushed back and said, “Kathleen! It was towed.”

    What happened was that when I renewed my registration a few weeks ago, I was sent new license plates with a new number. I forgot to notify the apartment office of this, and they did an inspection of the lot last night and since the plate number didn’t match up with what they had on file, they towed it without even considering that it was the same car. Do you see the irony my friends?? It got towed because it was parked in the covered spot. So Carmen took me to pick it up, and it only cost me $182.39. What did I get for that money? I got my truck back–but it shouldn’t have been taken to begin with. I got my stress level elevated a few dozen notches. And I lost basically the entire morning since I could hardly concentrate on anything after the fiasco. I am not a very happy camper.

    But I do have my little delinquent truck. When I picked him up I felt like I was bailing a kid out of jail. I of course documented the experience.

    dscf0609 The auto storage place

    dscf0616 The sign out front

    dscf0623 Signing my life away

    dscf0620 There he is! (The tan one.)

    I am trying extremely hard not to be stressed out with my life these days, but I have a feeling that sometime within the next month there will be a breakdown. I am serious about this. But for now, I am holding it together.

    P.S. UCLA let me down tonight, and I had to say goodbye to the trophy that could have been–and one day will be–mine.

  • Time (Eventually)

    This morning I bought a ticket to see Anne Lamott , an author I love, speak on April 28 at the Episcopal Diocese of Texas. She has a new book out called Grace (Eventually), a collection of essays of her thoughts on faith. I was of course planning on reading the book sometime, but now I feel like I need to read it before I see her speak. Sooo, I’m going to have to step it up on my reading regimen. Although I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to manage that with my classes simultaneously stepping up their assignment regimens. I just might go a little crazy this next month. I am counting down the days (35!) until the end of this semester, when I will have exactly TWO GLORIOUS WEEKS of nothingness to entertain me, and I can let myself slip into the coma that I have been barely keeping at bay.

  • Some of Today’s Happenings

    So, someone was murdered on a public bus today. Two blocks from my apartment. I ride the bus three times a week. It really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

    Also today, I went back and worked a half day at the cancer clinic where I worked for two years before starting nursing school. I can honestly say that if I hadn’t left when I did, I might’ve lost my mind. Things are crazy over there. They are at least 3-4 full-time staff members short. They are weeks behind. They have papers to be filed out the wazoo. I barely even scratched the surface when I was there, and I will probably end up going back to work more half days even though I really don’t have the time.

    And finally, be very excited because after my soccer game tonight my toenail is now hanging on by a thread! A momentous day is coming soon…

  • Book Review: The Stranger Beside Me by Anne Rule

    A couple of months ago, my boyfriend David and I decided to start our own little book club of sorts and recommend books we had read to each other. We would then read them and discuss. The book I recommended to him was The Hot Zone by Richard Preston, the true story of a near-outbreak of an ebola-type virus in the U.S. When I suggested it, I forgot that he’s one of those types of people who take on or become paranoid about all of the symptoms that he reads about or comes into contact with. For example, the other day I had some side-effects from the bird flu vaccine and when I described them to him the first thing he said to me was, “I guarantee that I will have every one of those symptoms within the next ten minutes!” and then, “Seriously, is there any chance at all that I may have the bird flu right now?” Anyway, the point is that although The Hot Zone is an excellent book, it may not have been the best choice for him.

    In a similar vein, David recommended that I read The Stranger Beside Me. This is a unique book about Ted Bundy, a serial killer who committed most of his murders in the late 1970’s. The author of the book was friends with Ted Bundy before the murders were committed. She got the contract to write about them before Ted was even a suspect. She stayed in touch with him in one way or another until the end of his life. Her inside knowledge of him makes the book especially interesting.

    I didn’t know much about Ted Bundy before I read this book because it all happened either before I was born or when I was a little girl. Basically, he was a charming, handsome young man who no one would have suspected. He eventually confessed to around 30 murders, although it is believed that he killed many more. All of his victims were pretty, young women with similar characteristics. He would pretend to be vulnerable, for example by putting his arm in a sling, and ask for help carrying something. The girl would then be led to his car, bludgeoned in the head, and taken away with him.

    After he was eventually arrested (over something trivial in comparison), Bundy escaped from prison twice. The first time he was caught a few days later, but the second time he was free for 6 1/2 weeks. He could have made a clean break, but he was obviously caught in the grip of something that he couldn’t control. It was during this time that he broke into a sorority house and murdered two more girls and severely injured two. He also broke into another nearby house on the same night and attempted another murder.

    He was caught soon afterwards, and after years and years of trials and appeals (during which he managed to get married and impregnate his new wife!), he was finally executed via electric chair in January of 1989.

    Just like I did to him, David picked a book for me to read that could easily have freaked me out (what are we doing to each other?). I clearly fit the profile of Ted Bundy’s victims. If I saw a stranger with crutches or a sling on his arm needing help, I would surely be inclined to help him. But after reading this, I can confidently say that I will probably now be a paranoid freak. Just because I’m 25 years old doesn’t mean I can stop watching out for strangers. And no more solitary evening walks to Food Town! Doors will always be locked. In fact, I wouldn’t mind moving to a safer part of town.

    The book is an interesting read, especially if you like true crime. It made me think, and it made me aware. Maybe that’s why David wanted me to read it after all!