wayback playback

I've always had a thing for revisiting the past. As anyone who knows me well can tell you, I love to return to my favorite books, movies, and albums. They remind me so clearly of specific times in my life, and those personal connections have a way of smoothing over the imperfections of, say, the subtleties of the tragically hip lifestyle in Garden State (which I saw my first month of college, and have watched (and cried through) at every major transition point of my life since), or the childish humor of Barbara Park's Almost Starring Skinnybones (which will never be eclipsed on my best-of-literature list).
This affection for nostalgia definitely comes from my mom - she who saves everything. I realized early on that little treasures stashed in the back of my closet would stay there, awaiting rediscovery on a boring summer afternoon. I'd be lying if I said this last visit to my parent's house was the first time I'd read through the stack of on-again, off-again diaries I kept from age seven to about fifteen. In fact, the cause for picking up a new diary was often reading through the old one. I remember feeling very strongly that I needed to create a new (more eloquent) version of myself for The Future to remember. I was never very disciplined with diary-keeping, but does it really matter? When I did write daily entries, they were just a play-by-play of the day's events. But the random times that my past self decided it was necessary to record some monumental event (mostly having to do with boys, or my ever-shifting Best Friend) the entries are long, excitedly scrawled explanations of episodes that were clearly weighing heavily on my adolescent mind.
And so, last week, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor inside my old closet, speed-reading through a tour of my younger self, just as I have so many times before, thinking how funny these entries were, how young I was. I realized that ten years from now, I may very well be clicking through this online diary of sorts, remembering specific events based on the details I decided to highlight here. Cue this film, consider mind blown.

1) age five, kindergarten portrait (pre-diary)
2) age nine / ten? (I probably wrote the pictured entry around when this was taken)
3) senior portrait, age seventeen

summertime

Happy Monday, internet! I'm diving in headfirst with a heavy dose of website exploration/development (we're gonna do it!), finishing up our newest card release (and by me, I mean John) and a load of beginning-of-the-week shipments. This is pretty much what's running through my head right now:

(found by Scott, via It's Nice That)

city of roses

After a week of homemade meals and relaxation, I'm back from my trip up to PDX to visit my lovely parents, pictured above. It was lovely, quiet, and perfect - even the weather held up nicely, despite my previous knack for bringing the rain. I spent a bit of time digging through my old room, and found some treasures to be shared soon, so look forward to a glimpse at past-Katie (yikes).
LA has welcomed me back into its smoggy arms with a couple of 90+ degree days, but I'm prepared. Bring it on, heat, I've got undies in the freezer and a website to build.

neighborhood walks

Though my fair city of LA is known best for automobiles, I spend most of my time without a car. I get around town on my trusty bicycle, but I also run daily, and regularly take walks around Los Feliz to absorb the scenery and sunshine (ah, the wonders of working from home). I especially appreciate the weather after my seven year stint in Minneapolis. Los Angeles has so much exotic plantlife snuggled up to the concrete in little nooks within just a few miles of our apartment - I finally took the time to capture a bit of it on film (and by "film" I mean "my iPhone").

portland here / portland there

A few months ago, our dear friend Dave left us for the greener, smog-free pastures of Portland. Thankfully, since his work has an office in Los Angeles, he still comes to work/play every once in a while, so last weekend we pretended he never left. We hiked Runyon Canyon, where I learned the true meaning of "off leash area" (read: dog poop) and headed out to the coast for a day of sunning our pale bodies. We also made it out to the Smog Cutter for karaoke, as per usual, and thanks to Dave's photog skills I finally have evidence of Scott's epic Steven Tyler impression. We also managed to get our filthy car washed at one of the many coin op self wash stations in Echo Park. I felt like I was in Grease - watching my guy hose down our car while I tapped around in my heels and drank a diet Coke.
Tomorrow, I head out for a mini vacation to see my family in Portland, where I look forward to lots of home cooked deliciousness, hikes and cycling with my parents, and some old fashioned PDX good times.

born on the fourth of july

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays, and last night was no exception. Scott and I biked over to Echo Park to barbeque with some friends, followed by a dusk hike up an absurd set of stairs to a scenic overlook to watch the fireworks at Dodger Stadium. Despite my choice of red pumps for a night of biking and walking, I had a lovely time. Something about beer, friends, and the smell of fireworks in the night just makes me feel safe and giddily excited.
Though I had my hands full of snacks and beverages for most of the day and evening, I did manage to document a few key sightings of red white and blue, including Jeremy's epic eagle pin, and Scott's burgeoning flag-stamped mail collection (see above).
ALSO: thanks to Sam, I finally experienced the cheese that I first tried last year on the fourth, and now I can buy it and grill it in all its salty, squeaky, chewy glory any time I like. Seriously. Halloumi. It will change you. (and that website is too good not to link to. OOF.)

'merica

In honor of my fair country's birthday, an illustration of some pretty ladies, in enviable sailor-esque jumpsuits. And now, I am off to drink copious amounts of Budweiser and light some shit up.