Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick for President

Representative Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick, Michigan’s 13th District

I have a secret love for CSPAN. While obsessively looking for Katrina news, we here at the Keathly household came across the Congressional Black Caucus on Response to Hurricane Katrina. Now that was some presidential speaking.

I would also accept Jesse Jackson Jr., or probably most of the rest of the speakers. He said some smart, smart things.

Really, I just want a president who can communicate and inspire. I have yet to be inspired by thing one that comes out of Bush’s twisty mouth.

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New Orleans, 2003

I’ve been terribly distracted with Katrina news this afternoon. I thought that it might be nice to remember some of the nice stuff about New Orleans.

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You may continue to attend bla bla bla

Hey, another semester, another hold! According to my new projections and calculations, next semester will be the last hold, which kind of sucks, because I ordered a big rubber stamp that says “you douchebags had better lift the hold so I don’t have to burn down the Alumni center” — wait, no it says “I dropped all those classes eight years ago! I’m old! OLD OLD OLD!” That usually works, we’ll see what they say. Of course, first I have to get the signature of my advisor, who is probably very tired of me charging into her office screaming hellfire and damnation.

“Take it to the mall with your proselytising!” she shouts, so I retire to the corner opposite the Jesus dude and rant for a good hour or two before remembering that all I need is a signature.

Oh yeah, this is the last semester of math! Ever! I will have beaten it! (this time I’m not talking about beating it in the sense of cranking one out in the bathroom of the local restaurant Pop! during a non-date to stay relaxed. Speaking of Pop!, they are opening a pizza and ice cream shop called Snap! as in “oh, snap!” or “snap, crackle, and constant indoctrination of consumerism.” Also, the Hollywood theater might be reopening?)

With that paperwork filled out, I apparently just have to reapply for a SELF loan for 2005-2006 again, because the U can’t be bothered to keep track of loans for which I am already approved. To reapply I will have to get my mom to fill out the cosigner business again, then fill out the forms myself, then print it all, have her get it notarized and send it all off. Then I get to call my dad and explain why I blew him off at the fair and that he needs to buy 16 credits worth of schoolbooks for me. There might be some lying on my part. I’m just saying. It might happen.

“No, Denise is not an earthly incarnation of Cthulu. Really. She’s the greatest person ever. That goes for you, too! I’m not bitter about you being an asshole at all!”

I may have to work on that a little, but I have at least a week before I have to have him in my place of employment checking out the freshman girls.

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Bingo!

Today is Dj wrecka’s last day on the air, so she helped out Zach and I by playing all of our requests and hitting the last spot in Radio K bingo. When she played “Puppet Show” by Tulip Sweet and her Trail of Tears, Zach and I were laughing uncontrollably, and even wrecka was giggling as she rolled into the break. I might might might go see Meredith Bragg tonight, but I might restrict myself since I have been financially irresponsible this summer. It’s only five bones, though. I could ride the bus on my new U-Pass!

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CC Club

So Cake Woman AIMed me today while I was at work, saying that we should hook up to share travel stories. I, of course, was down, yo, but then she disappeared. I tried to call her while walking to the car, and then when I got home, but didn’t hear from her until after my evening nap (which was glorious). When I got there she handed me the last Maibock, which I downed forthwith. Dan drove us to the CC, where Sister Nadeau met us. Dan and I ganged up on Cake Woman and she walked home in a huff. HA ha. I felt a little bad for her — she was all lonely and… no I didn’t. She could have called me at any time if she really wanted help moving. She could have asked tonight if she wanted me on her side. I really don’t feel that sorry for people who can’t ask for what they want.

P.S.: Thank you platinum card!

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Bunny!

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How To Make Me Crabby

  1. Take me to the fair too early — it should be dark when we go home! With fireworks and awesome!
  2. Have no agenda at the fair — I have no respect for people with no state fair agenda.
  3. Walk slowly — fortunately once Stan knows where he is going he moves like a New York cab driver. People nearly died. It was awesome
  4. Surprise me with my dad’s evil shrew demon wife before I have had even one delicious corn dog or for that matter any batter dipped deep fat fried goodness. Oh, hey, it’s you! I have to make a special trip to go… eat something available every ten feet around here. I’m really hungry, so I might run. You can’t just spring these things on me.

I got my fucking corn dog. It was fucking delicious.

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Galactic Pizza

Galactic Pizza

No, they don’t serve pizza by the slice. :(

zach: Christy, who also lives in Whittier as of tomorrow, was very excited that you were taking pictures: “Wow, so we’re actually doing this Whittier blog thing!”

So, yeah, round one was a success, and I feel as though I know Eat Street and Lyndale a little better. Nicollet deserves a solo run or two, I think, with no other streets to distract from all its delicious glory. Zach promised some backup for the more in-depth parts of the work, like interviewing people. I’m shy! I can’t just walk up to people and be all “hey, tell me your awesomeness!” Actually, I can, but I have to want to.

If you want your neighborhood photographed, you just have to supply me with a spotter to walk with me so people can’t sneak up behind me with a brick. Good conversation is a plus. Must like long walks, good beer, indie rock, and listening to me babble. Must supply own comfortable shoes.

I want to photograph the length of Hennepin. End to end it’s like seven miles. That’s about twice as far as I went today, so it would likely take about eight hours with breaks and long pauses to photograph white castle boxes. It’s what you crave.

But what is my neighborhood? I live in Waite Park, but Audobon feels more like home with the shops and stuff. Maybe I should go back to Southeast Como. I think it needs a nickname, like “Southeasy.” Yes, I thought of that after making a typo, but imagine the “Big Easy” style festivals! Mardi Gras in Minneapolis! Jazz bands! Drunken partying! Parades! Delicious food!

Speaking of delicious food, tomorrow is the fair with the Keathlys! Plus, if I’m very good, I might get to see that rollerderby business. Beefy women in fishnets punching the crap out of eachother on skates! How can I lose?

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Walk a Mile In My Shoes

Time to start the Whittier project, because my neighborhood isn’t good enough. I’ll be on Lyndale if you need me — possibly on Nicollet if I don’t get too wiped out or mugged.

I’m just kidding about my neighborhood, I love my first ring suburb.

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Party Or Nap?

I should be at a party right now, but some of us took a nap on the couch that bookended dinner.

This weekend:

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