Puberty: Part 1 & 2 and Facts In the Variety of HISTORY

The other day, my nice hot lesbo doctor said I was going through puberty again.
Im not sure exactly what will happen after Puberty: Part 2 but if I could recall, and I will recall, my years shortly after Puberty: Part 1 were toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooootally awesome.
Maybe after Puberty: Part 2 my eggs will stop screaming to leave my bod.
Or maybe Ill even have a babers. EGGCITE.
But that wont happen for a while so SORRY ROM aka no. 2 MOM.



I guess its still winter in Sharka Weeka, WA but its new to me kinda.
Ive lived here for a year now!
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

Travis and I read Boneshaker and decided that the Underground Tour would be appropriate and what an eerie dee-lite it was, esp with the help of brown treats from R-Na K-Mo.



Here are a few facts that I gathered during the tour, with the help of the aforementioned brown treat. Good Luck Jihee. THANKS.

1. Denny Hill became a hill thanks to this : SLUICING.

It took nearly 8 years of sluicing, which is basically hosing the shit out of some dirt and spreading it out all out developing layers and stretching land. NEAT!

2. Seattle was a shit hole.

Its true. Seattle old timey land maybe forgot to take into conseration this : TIDES. Hi-tide would come in and flood the shitter and then flood the streets of the business district. Shitters high in the hills would flush down towards the bay, but during hi-tide the water and the shit would collide into what I think DAVE, our monotone wonder, said was a 6x6 box. Or something. Regardless, this mighty town was a shithole. With shitty geysers. Literally. Basically think of it as the scene in the hit mid80s movie Goonies where "Troy Perkins" gets an atomic bomb of a shitstorm up his ass. Anyway, Seattle the shithole was saved by the great fire of 1889, charring the entire district, with flames so hot it buckled the rails. NEAT. It was their time to rebuild Seattle to what is now Shark Week. The End.

No one died! NOT SO GREAT ARE YOU, FIRE?!



3. The glass tiles youll see along the sidewalks, on 1st Ave, were originally a shit brown, of course, but the sun reacted to the manganese in the glass, thus making it purple. NEAT.



4. The underground was actually the base floor for the entire biz district. You would have had to climb up ladders in order to get to the shop of your choice. Up and down like a bunch of nomadic simpletons. I think this is what inspired Gary Larsen, a major Seattle celeb, to start his profound series, The Far Side. So much truth in one 2x3 comic strip. Anyway. As soon as they built the streets over the tunnels, the Bubonic Plague party began. Washing out all the hookers, rats, opium dens, bootleg DVDs merchants and hilarious nudee zine stands. No party is a real party even if its the Bubonic Plague party, without trashing the place.



Here is a mossed up wall from the underground. A real wall!



There are many more facts, but Im afraid youll have to pay me to continue the tour.
In the meantime, lets all try to visualize the drunks falling into the tunnels. Because they did. Because they COULD.





* * *


Proof that KAG loves JRK more than most things.



Also, last night, David Lynch sat out in my parking lot with his headlights on for 2 hours.



I got sick of watching him so I started to stare at other things.



Also, HURRY UP SPRING!




AAAAAAAAAAAND MAGNIFICENT TERROR ARRIVES IN ONE WEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!

Swimming In Caves, Ideas, and Health

My boss just got back from a tiny island near Belize.
MUST BE NICE.

While he was away, I took care of the office turtle, Carmine.
Carmine is quiet. Though, when no one has visited her in a while, she'll excitedly knock against her glass jail, hungrily.
I spoil her when I can. Shrimp or salmon, she prefers the shrimp.
He came back with turtle friends for me.



My boss swam with turtles in the cenotes near the island.
Cenotes and caves set my brain into waterfall mode.
I have never been but someday it will happen as I love both exciting and frightening moments equally.



And recently, as in the last 2 hours, I have been fascinated with sinkholes.



For obvious reasons, of course.



HA HA.

Im pretty excited about an idea I have an idea I birthed just now just this very second. May I remind you all that goals are good. Still.



And in Health news, Im going to get better.
And fitter and stronger.
I pick up my bicycle tomorrow (which I will now ride to work I PROMISE I SWEAR!) and have, for the most part, become a pescetarian.
I suppose it has a lot to do with something my friend Jeff said a long time ago, and described meat as grizzly. Somehow it grossed me out. Which is hard to do since its near imposs to gross me out. TRY ME.
Im doing it for you Health, and because I love eating the shit out of fish/clebs. But not literally. Of course.

This Just In...

Amongst the words my mom cannot pronounce, such as:

-Fitzgerald
-Gerald
-Niagra Falls (The "Niagra" part, of course)
-Bulb (As in both "Light bulb" and bulbs you plant)

She pronounces "Thesis" SEE-SUSSUHS but only when she's not thinking of the word. I have proof as my sister called and forced her to say it. Mother got mad and just shouted SEE-SUSSUHSUH!


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIFE AS A KORN

Fragility; Overtime

Often times I feel like a foreigner. I can visit conversations here and there but at the end of the day I am alone floating somewhere. Usually I know exactly where I am, at the Mismaloya pool at night surrounded by mountains and candle lit rooms, since electricity was thankfully unreliable. It was here where I floated on my back and witnessed a most surreal vision.



I must have been aligned with something out of this world, with such bulbous cumulus clouds in bright pale grays pregnant with air, acting as the moon illuminating anything in contact surrounded by mountains and so many mountains. I float there often and wonder if a photograph would get me there quicker. I cant find anything remotely close.

But then there are times I desperately want to remember, but suffocating in the months doldrums and wondering if I was ever there and not in some dumb pool.



Then there are days I am back in London, passing shops and smelling quickly. The sounds of the city made my feet move quicker than norm. I love that I am my father’s daughter, always quick on my feet and never getting too terribly lost, always finding my way back.



When London was fresher in my mind, I would picture myself in one location and map out the best and quickest way to get to point B. But at the end of the day I am usually back in Regent’s Park, at night, partially worried if the queen’s gate has been shut, and imagining climbing the gate, cuing the “plink” of the thick spikes. Ive been floating more and more, as I do monthly, trying to fight something but seemingly losing. I am nostalgic and missing familiar faces as you would be my immediate comfort especially still in a foreign town.

Maybe tonight I will be somewhere else. Maybe riding thru Munich, Vienna, or Antalya and back to Rome.

I believe my ghosts are still there. I should visit someday.

Right baby Jia?