Blogiversary 6.0
Posted on Friday, 18th July 2008 at 11:21pm- 6 Comments Ensuing
Today marks my 6th Blogiversary. Six years ago, on July 18th 2002 BSC, I registered my domain Kitta.net and started blogging. It’s hard to believe I’ve been blogging for so long and received nearly four million unique hits.
But this isn’t my first time I’ve blogged. Oh no.
Prior this blog I had a Teen Open Diary from 2000 to 2002. For those of you who know what that is, you’ll be cringing or laughing. For those of you that don’t know what it is, you’ll be trying to Google it and are probably better off not knowing. TOD closed down years ago and the domain is now home to spam links. I decided to track it down my TOD via the internet time machine.
At the time I was teenager, working as a model and studying design. The majority of my posts were about my experiences in the fashion industry, which would have be interesting if I applied proper spelling and didn’t complete every quiz I found. It featured poems from my boyfriend, pointless rants and forwarded email jokes. I posted riveting entries entitled “I wasn’t gonna write but…”, “I have so much to write…”, “…and make you moan the ABC’s in spanish”, “Some things have happened”, “My day was pretty good”, “10 cookies, a piece of pizza & some M&M’s”, “Boredness, hornyness & kittas gentlemans club”, “Always a bride, never actually married”, “Long time, no me typing crap into this diary…”, “Doggie style & Things that piss me off”, “Does this taste funny to you?” “Freedom of X-rated stuff” and “Gutter sluts and Lush.” I also provided some code advice for fellow TOD users, “Kitta’s guide to linking in TOD” was quite popular, while “Kitta’s guide to Html Basics in TOD” and “More of Kitta’s guide to html” provided great insight into HTML. Everyone was so amazed by “Kitta’s guide to posting a picture in TOD” and “Why your pictures wont show in your TOD” that I probably should have won a Nobel prize for my work.
Thankfully, none of those entries were indexed, neither was my terrible first attempt at a website on a free hosting site - we’re talking black and magenta with comic sans. Sexy.
I went through my Kitta.net archives today and picked a few of my favourite blog posts to mark the occasion…
- Paused - The one about my Grandmother
- Leet Wow Hacker - The one where I own a kid
- Stop Trolley Thief - The one where my trolley was stolen
- SuperShadow or SuperStupid? - The one where I owned SuperShadow
- Two Cops & Me In A Towel - The one with two cops and me in a towel
- My McDonalds Milkshake - The one with two girls and their milkshake theory
- One Boring Sunday - The one where we blew up the garage
- No Cookie For Me - The one with the Subway guy
- On Behalf Of Firefox - The one where I tried to sell Firefox to a telemarketer
- Emailing England - The one where my Mother tried to email England
- 2008, 2007 and 2005 prediction series - The ones where I predict the sarcastic future
Here’s to another year of blog posts about random moments of my life.
Dr Confession
Posted on Wednesday, 18th June 2008 at 9:03pm- 15 Comments Ensuing
I never thought I would say this - it’s so ludicrous and I cannot even believe it myself. But I feel it needs to be said publicly…
I have become a Dr Phil viewer.
This past week I have been overcome by severe illness. It all started late one night with a tickle in my throat, while I slept the tickle swiftly turned into strep throat (Streptococcal Pharyngitis). I was subjected to 40°C fever and chills. I dehydrated to the point where my family begged me to let them take me to the hospital. Delirious and stubborn, I managed to fight off dehydration and my families plea. But I’m not sure how I did so, my brain seems to have locked away the memory in the ‘lets not go there’ section. I do remember my legs aching and telling my mother that I wanted “ice melted”… I meant water.
As I was recovering from asking for melted ice and a fever, my chest become jealous of the attention my throat was gathering and decided to become infected. Chest forced me to cough every few seconds, just to let everyone know that chest is hardcore and that throat better not fuck with chest.
Yes. I am medicated while writing this.
Then my sinuses finally decided to join the infection party. What ensued was days of, “is your nose still running?” jokes from my mother who has been caring for me. I felt totally lady like laying in bed with tissues stuck permanently in my nose. I’m slowly recovering, very slowly, which is aggravating. It’s not being sick that aggravates me. It’s the not being able to care for myself or do anything. My room is a mess, I haven’t done laundry or cooked myself a proper nutritious meal in over a week, a bracelet I was making is left uncompleted, I have a mountain of errands, friend to see, pancake craving to quench, plans and events to attend, zombies to kill, and I haven’t even been feeling well enough to game. I think the latter annoys me the most, as gaming is the what I look forward to most when I’m sick in bed. It alleviates my daily frustrations.
This is why I have been reduced to watching Dr Phil.
Maybe it’s the medication. Maybe I have residue delirium. Maybe it’s boredom. Maybe I suspect Dr Phil is operated by the Daleks and someone has to watch what those exterminating bastards are doing. Maybe I hope he’ll make a point instead of sound bite. Maybe I just used the word ‘maybe’ too many times in one blog post. I’m convinced - after a good weeks worth of forced research - that daytime TV is the root of all evil. But the root of all evil has been my only source of entertainment. The TV shows I normally enjoy are all on break, so I bow down to evil daily until I can get out of bed and return to the living.
I told friends about my Dr Phil - Philly, as I like to call him - addiction and I think they are now planning an intervention. Which is awesome. I hope they bring some DVD’s and pancakes.
Day At The Kit Fair
Posted on Monday, 26th May 2008 at 10:10pm- 12 Comments Ensuing
I attended the Craft & Quilt fair on Saturday and went to see Indiana Jones on Sunday. It was the first weekend in months that I’ve gone somewhere that was fun and not stressful.
As I walked around the Perth Convention Exhibition Centre I listened to the crowd, overhearing bits of conversation amongst strangers, people say the funniest things when they assume their conversations will be lost in the noise.
“I tried lampworking once and burnt off my eyebrows.”
“There are a lot of men here today. They’re either gay or selling something.”
“Someone should make a quilt to put in her mouth.”
“I loved my last enema.”
“If I buy this I won’t be able to pay for my weekly erotic massage and bottle of wine.”
“Before we go I want to check out the stall with the crap bags”
I noticed that most items for sale at the fair were in kit form; bead kits, quilt kits, teddy bear kits, knitting kits, kit kits, kitted kit kits, etc. In amongst the craft stalls was the token guy with the iron shoe that no one pays attention to. I was saddened at the lack of creativity. Sure, it’s creative in a sense. You are making that quilt or beaded necklace. But the pattern isn’t yours, and I personally wouldn’t feel a sense of accomplishment that comes with creating something unique that is a reflection of your creativity.
I started beading when I was ten. Back then there were no kits for sale, I learnt how to string a simple seed bead bangle from a friend and was hooked. Soon my friend and I had our own store at the school fete, our items - although simple and cheap - sold amazingly well and we made hundreds of dollars during those years. Which is large sum for a ten year old. The only problem was that all proceeds were meant to be donated to our school, a rule which I decided to bend, because I didn’t feel our hard work should go unrewarded. When the vice principal came over to collect our takings - much like a pimp - I handing her a jar containing $20 of coins and kept the notes that added up to $100 hidden away. She was surprised. “Oh no” I thought, “she knows and I’m going to have my kneecaps broken with plastic baseballs bats hired at lunch time!” Then she said, “you’ve done well, $20 is a lot of money!” I nodded and smiled. Later that day I went to the local store and bought as much junk food as my $50 cut could buy. It was delicious.
I tell you this devious story not because I want you to know I was once a kid who totally owned my pimpish vice principal, but because it was my grounding in beading. Where my love for beading blossomed and was allowed to take form without the need for a kit.
No photography was allowed at the fair, which struck me as odd rule for an event which is meant to inspire. Why is no photography allowed when kits and patterns are for sale? I was personally inspired quite a few times, not by an entire work, but by little things. The way a clasp was attached or a stringing method. But the inspiration was lost amongst the cluster of everything I saw that day.
A few items and products did stick in my mind…
- Microwave kilns - They entice me to finally purchase a lampworking kit and try making my own lampworked beads.
- Shop in a Qube concept store - If you want somewhere to sell your products, check it out. It’s quite an interesting concept.
- Beading supplies - I purchased some interesting glass beads and some half price gemstones.
- Clover wonder knitter - It looks like a toy, but once it was demonstrated to me I had to have one.
Before I left I decided to buy a late lunch, as I had been walking around for a good two hours while my stomach protested every few minutes. The best option for a cold winters day was hot chips. Alas, the chips tasted like six month old oil, looked like deep fried carrots, cost $6.90 and were possibly the worst food item I’ve ever consumed. At least they weren’t selling them in kit form.
Found
Posted on Tuesday, 13th May 2008 at 11:21pm- 14 Comments Ensuing
Amongst all the chaos of the last few months; the break-up, tears, arguments, unwarranted weight loss, depression, headaches, death, cancer, life changes and challenges…
I seem to have found my creativity again.
A week ago I stumbled upon a box full of findings and beads on sale. I dug around the box, found a few items, and decided to buy them without intention to use them. “They’re cheap and I might use them one day,” I assured myself. Then my creative energy flowed and during a five hour beadathon yesterday I created an array of bracelets.
My new found creative energy could be linked to the fact that a dear friend of mine suddenly found out some devastating news regarding the health of her baby, news that took me days to comprehend and acknowledge. Her beloved seven month old baby boy has numerous incurable cancerous tumours all over his body. Four in his brain, one wrapped around his heart, another wrapped around his windpipe and spine, no major organ is free from the cancerous tumours. I cried for days. The entire situation seems so unfair and surreal. His mother celebrated her first Mother’s Day by his side in hospital, hoping for a miracle and asking for resolve. Weeks earlier the young family had moved into their new home, they were looking forward to a holiday and planning a first birthday later this year. This week doctors and family prepare for the inevitable. When I first heard the news it felt like a bad dream, because I never knew such an aggressive cancer could attack a baby in such a manner. It’s everywhere. The doctors are performing chemotherapy not to cure the cancer, but to possibly shrink the tumours and make him more comfortable, he is in pain, pain that he cannot vocalise given how young he is. A miracle has been questioned, as everyone involved clings to hope, doctors are regrettably confident that even if all of the multiple tumours could be shrunk and/or surgically removed, the cancer would return within months given it’s aggressive nature.
Aggressive. I hate that word.
The recent events have made me realise how cruel and unfair life can be, forcing me to contemplate mortality in great detail, leading towards sleepless nights and rumination.
“To die is poignantly bitter, but the idea of having to die without having lived is unbearable.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
WordPress | Contrast Hosting | XHTML 1.0 | CSS | Syndicate | Copyright 2002 - 2008
