I didn’t even know a TB existed (that wasn't Taco Bell).

I have a tape recorder for classes that I can record lectures and what not in class and then upload to my laptop and save as audio files. I figure this will take up a lot of space and I don’t want to loose any of them so I go an external hard drive today.

It’s been backing up files for about 45 minutes. So far we’re a little over 14.2 GB backed up and we haven’t even gotten to the pictures and video yet. Luckily there was a really good deal on one that holds 1 TB.

I’m on my third laptop since 2006 (the first two were given to me used, this is my first new one) and I lost A LOT of pictures that are somewhere on an jump drive, probably lost forever.

I tend to get a little snap happy when I get a camera in my hand and take pictures of myself. Not so much anymore since I pretty much only use my Rebel, but ONLY BECAUSE MY ARMS ARE TOO SHORT!

No, seriously. I wish I was lying when I say I have a folder named ‘Katie Shots’ that has over a thousand pictures of me holding the camera in front of my face and snapping away. Sad thing is that I’ll only like 5 or 6 out of the bunch and the others just sit in folders.

So, yeah. Got an external hard drive. Still backing up files after an hour and half later. That is all.

Friday Night

Things I’ve done tonight:

1. Watch Lost.  (I’m now up to the fifth season.)
2. Cry and get mad because, um, it’s Lost.  It’s not supposed to make any sense whatsoever!
3. Edit pictures of my dogs.
4. Watch John Mayer on USTREAM.
5. I wish I was lying.
6. I’m not.  See?  Pictures of dogs…

 

Fattie Pants

 

 
Dying to catch Seagulls

 

 
Wannabe Cullen

She’s grown so much!

I just realized it’s 08-09-10. Hah.

Two of my favorite loves; Tallulah and the beach.

Summer’s almost over so I took Lulu and Pink (Carlisle if Facebook is asking) to the beach.  Neither liked the water much, but I got some good pictures.  And my car only got stuck in the sand twice.  At least the timing belt didn’t blow like last time.

I’m so far behind on editing pictures, it’s ridiculous.  School starts the 23rd and I’m so excited!  If all goes according to plan, this time next year I’ll have my Associates Degree and can apply for nursing school.  Three short semesters and I’ll be LVN.  Then I can work for a bit and go back for my RN.

That’s only 5 semesters total.  FIVE.  SEMESTERS. 

Word.

I have a blog?

NO WAY!

Time to partake in festivities that include pink lemonade and cotton candy vodka.  :)

I’m Katie-Kate

And me love you long you time.

 Newly Pierced Noses, November 2006

We were friends.

Then we weren’t.

We were friends again.

Then we weren’t.

We’re friends again (at least on Facebook).

 Fall semester 2006

I’ve written you so many messages, wanted to call you so many times.  I thought about you on my drive to school every morning and when I’d wait in the bathroom in between classes.  I’d hear a song/see something/do something and want to call you, but I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

We weren’t friends.

I wanted to apologize so many times, but for what I didn’t know.  Neither of us did anything wrong.  We just let boys, roommates, school, work, friends, life get in the way.

 
I told you we wouldn’t kill you!

Will things ever be the same?  Probably not.  It hurts  to even admit this, but it’s what happens.  We grow up and we move on and sometimes we take a step back and it’s amazing, but more often than not we realize why we put it in our past to begin with.

Losing you as a friend broke my heart.  It hurt more than breaking up with a boyfriend.  There’s nothing I’d love more than for us to be friends again, for things to be the way they were.  I’m just skeptical, I suppose.  We haven’t talked in two years and so much has happened in those two years.  Neither of us are the same person and if we’ve changed too much to be friends again, I don’t know that I could take it.

You were the best friend I’ve ever had.  I’ve never been as close to anyone as I was with you.  Let’s face it, talking to each other while on the toilet is as pretty close as you can get without dating.  Whether or not we become friends again, I’m really glad you sent me that friend request.  I’ve missed you.

IFLY.  Still.  Always.

“Didn’t they do that on Glee?”

Last night was karaoke night with two of my favorite people.  That’s what I asked after almost every song, because 9 times out of 10, the answer was yes.   After the day I’d had it was  a much needed night out.  Honestly, I can’t remember the last night I’ve been out since my birthday in March.  I’ve had and been to some parties, yes, but haven’t been out.  Just realized that.  Hmm.

Last night.  Karaoke.  Right. 

I love her even if she is a Longhorn

Melodie.  My soap tweeting, Glee loving, calculator harassing Melodie.  I love this girl to pieces even if she up and went away to college.

 

“I’m going to the mall Monday.”
“You’re going to Guatemala?”
“Yes, Tia.  Guatemala.”

Then there’s my Tia.  There isn’t much to say about this girl, other than to know her is to love her.  And love her I do!  (Especially when she makes me look like less of a blonde.)

We had fun, even though I’ve decided that sober people who can sing totally ruin it for us drunkards who can’t.  Even though I didn’t get drunk.  Or sing.  I’m pretty sure they were happy, too because last time I was there I sang “Oops!…I Did it Again”  That drunk.

At least I wasn’t doing yoga on the floor like my Spanish teacher from sophomore  and junior year was.  That’s something I’d rather not try and figure out, quite frankly. 

As much fun as I had, we kept running into people we graduated with.  People who are now married, engaged or married and expecting their third kid.

That’s what sucks about living in a small town.  You can’t escape.  Everywhere you go there’s someone you know.  I have a huge problem with them.  When you wouldn’t even as much give me the time of day when we were in high school, don’t come talk to me like we’re long lost friends.  Maybe they’ve changed and maybe they’re trying to be nice, I know, but there’s a big difference in being nice and being fake.

I can’t stand fake.

I’m getting so sick of this town.  I’d love nothing more than to pack up and move away somewhere, but my family is here and I just don’t know that I would be okay with being away from them.  Maybe that will change when I get married and start a family.  Maybe that will change once I finish school and can afford to live on my own.  I don’t know.

What I do know is what I want my life to be like when I finally finish growing up and settle down.  I want a big house with big windows, a wrap around porch and a bright red door.  I want a big, spacious kitchen with lots of light, glass door cabinets and counter space.

I want lots of land with a pond and animals.  Chickens, horses, cows, goats, dogs, ducks, pigs.  I want lots of animals and four wheelers for the kids to play on.  I want them to go outside and play only to come in because they have to, not because they want to.  I want my kids to know what it’s like to play outside instead of spending it in front of the TV all day.

I want to have the house that all my friends and kids’ friends want to be at.

I know what I want and know that it’s all things that can easily reached with some hard work and sacrifices.  All I need to do is find someone who shares the same dreams and wants to share them with me.

I don’t want to end up being the crazy old lady with cats.  I really don’t like cats.

Sidenote

I had every intention of coming home last night, adding pictures and posting Alex’s letter.  However, that was before I attended a party for an 11 year old that consisted of two kids,  four family members and thirteen of his mother’s friends. 

I was so uncomfortable (and hot!  Outdoor parties and June don’t mix well in Texas.) that I drank a really big margarita.(I have a picture comparing it to the size of a seven year old’s head, but I’m pretty sure posting that picture would be illegal in all 50 states!)

 

  Vodka+rum+tequila+Blue Curacao+Red Bull=YUM!

 

It blew my mind that a mother could do that to her own son; to last minute throw together a party at a restaurant he didn’t even like and invite more people for her than for him.  It was his birthday.  Not some excuse for you to invite all your friends and try to prove how good of a mother you are.

I really, really, really want to talk about the fact that only one person from her side of the family willingly talked to me and the only time my own sister talked to me was to ask me what kind of margarita I got, but I won’t. 

I’ve overheard once or twice that they don’t like me because I act like I’m better than them.  My thoughts?  Rude and trashy is still rude and trashy, regardless of how well you try and hide it.

I’ve probably said too much and anymore would be tacky.  Momma raised me better than that so I’ll shut my mouth for now.

All I can say is that I hope karma is one hell of a bitch!