My Wise Old Man

     I've recently found myself applying to transfer back to the university that I first started college at.  A few things have resulted from my plans...


     1.) My mother has been in a dither because all she can seem to remember is me being sick all the time while I was there.
     My answer to this:
     Firstly, I blame it on only consuming breakfast cereal and ice cream with the occasional cheese and tortilla on Quesadilla Wednesdays.  Secondly, it was the consequence of sleeping with the window open all winter...don't judge me!  The heater was awful from the top bunk when your head was practically next to the vent!   My six foot tall roommate was afraid of heights and insisted on having the bottom bunk.  I'll let you ponder the distance between my head and the ceiling with that detail.  Lastly, I blame the lack of sleep.  I only slept on Saturdays.  My weekday bed time usually ranged around 3 to 4 o'clock in the morning.  Yea...how did I finish my freshman year alive? 


    2.)  I've been realizing that I'm really not as organized as I thought.
     Apparently, even though I've been graduated for a good 5,000,000.56875 years from high school (okay, maybe more like 7.5 years) they still want things like my ACT and SAT scores.  I really thought I had these filed away nicely somewhere.  I really really really...really really...really...really..re...all...y...did. (This is the point when I smile like I'm crazy and my eyes glaze over.)


     So, while trying to dig up those darn test scores, I've been poring over my old email box.  You know, the type with the really embarrassing user name?  Like nsyncluvr4life@yahoo.com ...or... futurebackstreetboybride@hotmail.com??  Yea...it's one of those.  Except it doesn't have anything to do with any boy bands that I liked in junior high.  Anyhow, I did a search for emails in my box that dated to 2003, and I stumbled upon a note from my dad.  He's not much for writing (which is obviously why I saved it.)  I couldn't help but be excited to uncover this treasure I'd forgotten.  It's monumental since he's the don't-cry-rub-some-dirt-on-it-I-only-say-I-love-you-on-special-occasions sorta guy.  
     I eagerly clicked on the email to open the contents and halfway through reading I was tearing up.  It really hit home for me something that I've been struggling with lately, and it reminded me of a girl I haven't been for a good 5 or 6 years, that I have work still to do, and that there's goals to be reached.  His words really put to rest the fears that I have of branching out again, moving to another city to pursue something that I love, desire, and am meant for.


     So, for the sake of inspiring the few people who take the time to read my silly blog I will share my pop's sweet words to me, at the time, his seventeen year old daughter, the youngest of his three daughters, the first Gaskins girl to move to another city, and the first to go live on campus while attending college full time.  I hope they remind you that it's okay to take chances, to step out and do something awesome even if scary. 

     "Hi there!  I've included your resume and hope it comes
thru.  I'm so proud of you and excited about this
phase of your life's journey.  I want to encourage you
to simply do your best, love God, and practice
kindness.  We love you so much.  Don't let things
overwhelm you, we're here for you and pray for you
several times a day.  You're doing something that's
never been done before in our family, going off to
school.  So, I guess you could call yourself the
explorer of the family.  That's what I did, I got on a
bus and launched out into the world.  You may have
moments of loneliness, that's normal, if you feel like
crying then that's what you do, I know cause I did. 
But the secret I found was to be with others, and
connect with them thru study of the Word, praying and
just enough time hanging out together and I did just
fine.  Well I guess I'd better get off to this job
fair this morning, will call or write again soon.

Lots of Love
Dad"

XOXO

Kimmy

What a Lazy Blogger Does...

   I, my friends, am a lazy blogger.


   I'll admit it! I'll shout it from the rooftops if you want me to.
   I won't promise you to do better.  I won't swear to always be true.  However, I will tell you that I'm getting help.  Not in the form of Bloggers Anonymous (which would TOTALLY be awesome,) but one of my dearest friends, Have Coffee Will Travel, has decided to remind me to blog.  Which I think is a noble pursuit since I'm awful about getting caught up in life.  Especially lately.  Let me explain...


   Per my previous ramblings you guys have learned that I was living the not dreamy life of an office worker.  I punched 9 to 5. (Well...more like 7 to 4, but I digress...) I did this said "punching" until August 19th when I was given an exit interview and sent on my way.  I would like to mention that both my bosses cried, as did I.  I became a victim of the economic downturn.  You know those people you hear about on the news?  Those faceless statistics you read on Yahoo?  Yup.  That's me!
   So here I sit, a single, attractive, unemployed, twenty-five (almost) year old woman who has NO CLUE where to go from here.  I've spent the last three years building an idea that Xerox would at least be a temporary career for me.  I could use it as a salary to help me along until my music gig got off the ground.  Who knew they'd break up with me first? It's just not fair!  I mean...aren't I supposed to be the one who gets the last word?!
   All right, so I'll quit whining.  I'm making this blog brief because there's a steaming hot cup of Starbucks "Calm" tea sitting next to me, and I'm trying to solve world hunger from where I sit.


   No time for blogging here.
   Until next time...

XOXO

Kimmy

A Short Life

I found out some of the most horrible news that a person can receive today.
A man that is very near and dear to my heart and my family has passed away.  I know people always say "It was too soon."  I don't think I've ever felt the impact of that statement until today.  


The hardest part is that there are no words to really express the emptiness you feel when you realize someone that was literally in your hands yesterday is suddenly gone.  I hugged him, talked to him, prayed next to him.  Just yesterday. 


How much more fragile can life get?  


When I heard the news my mind cataloged through the moments I'd stood with him.  The times when he'd reached out, arms wide, and hugged me tighter than I'd ever felt.  He truly loved those around him.


I think about the time that, not even a month or so ago, he sat on the end of a stage - one arm around my shoulders - and gave me one of the most insightful, fatherly pep talks I'd ever had.  There's no possible way you can describe the feeling of love and encouragement that he brought.


We will love you always, Papa Vic.
Our hearts are forever marked and changed.
I'll see you soon.

40's 40's 40's...did I say 40's?

Stick a fork in me - I'm obsessed.

Yes.
Obessed.

With the 40's.

I've been losing sleep over how to get my hair to do perfect pin curls, and those giant roll things...don't act like you don't know what I mean! ;)

I've got the shoes.
I've got a dress.
I've got a necklace.
I have a photographer.

I just need some earrings...and a wig.

...And a handsome soldier dressed in 1940's military garb.

Let's face it!  I need Captain America! 
Chris Evans, send your biceps.

I'll be waiting.

XOXO

Kimmy

Beach Fail

Spend a day with me and you'll figure out I love two things - music and the beach.

Now if they only made movies like they did in the old days I could combine my two loves into a Beach Blanket Bingo meets Gidget adventure.  I'd even do the acting for free!  As long as my "Moondoggie" costar was played by Adam Levine.  (I wonder if he knows how to surf...)

But I digress - so last Saturday we had a big weekend adventure planned.  Myself and some of my favorite girlies were heading to the beach to veg while soaking in the vitamin D....

As you can see - this is how our great "beach adventure" turned out.

So as we pondered the rain clouds we thought to ourselves, "What do we love ALMOST as much as the beach?"

Greek food!!!

I'm not really sure what the beach and Greek food have to do with each other.  So, we sped into the stormy horizon to make our tummies happy as consolation to our beach fail.

If I described how much I love Nikko Nikko's to you, you'd probably be really disturbed and so I'm going to spare you.  Here's a picture of the soda cup that warms my little heart.

I feel Greek already.

I asked Jessica and Julianne to look like they loved each other/their food.

At this point the only thing I'm sure about is the fact that they probably won't be making it in Hollywood anytime soon...

I'm also scared because Jules looks like a demented chipmunk.   No disrespect to chipmunks.  

As I write this post it's started to dawn on me that maybe the above "demented chipmunk-itis" was caused by consuming too much Greek food.

Forget burying me in a coffin.  Just fill a box full of this and lay me down to rest, baby! 

After we stuffed ourselves to the nostrils (because we don't have gills) with Gyros and potatoes Jessica managed to consume coffee described as below:

"A true coffee lover's coffee.  Black as hell, strong as death, sweet as love.  Also served with medium love or no love, your preference."

...and then we had to tie her up and throw her in my trunk after she started foaming at the mouth.

Overall I'd say it was a productive day. ;)

Hiding Me

  I'm listening to Kye Kye's Walking This right now.  
  It just seemed like the ideal background noise while I finally write a post I've been avoiding for quite awhile.  I've been dodging it for a hundred different reasons - be they legitimate excuses or not - I've been hiding.


  That seems to be my theme these days.  I float into the office, say my good morning's with a lack luster enthusiasm (barely believable,) and I sit at my desk for the rest of the day with my ear buds shoved in my head to drown out the talking.
  Sadly, I know that my coworkers have noticed a change in me, but I haven't been in much of an attitude to care.  Again... the hiding.  If no one asks it suits me well not to fumble awkwardly for an answer.  If I were to really be asked I'm not sure I could give them anything coherent or satisfying.  Ugh.  It even disgusts me just to think of this.  I've never been the type of person to keep my thoughts as closely guarded secrets.
  Maybe, just maybe it doesn't matter because my thoughts haven't been of much interest these days.  In fact I'm not sure I could utter them out loud without thinking, I'm retarded, afterward.  (Insert a sad, lopsided grin here.)
  My mind runs over memories, or I look at the circumstances in front of me and think that there just doesn't seem to be an end.  When you've been disappointed over and over and over it's hard to see what's on the other side.  It's hard to imagine that there's anything else outside of your troubles.  But I've begun to realize especially over the last few weeks that - no matter how tough it gets - it's not MY strength that's going to bring me through.  It's not MY job to fix the universe or to carry the weight of the situation.  
  It's my job to trust.  To fall back into grace with my arms spread wide and eyes closed.  The one person that's never changed, never failed, and never rejected me has been God.  And so, because of His love for me, I know there's an end to the hard times.  
  Does that mean I'm going to never cry?  
  No, but I swear if I never cried again I wouldn't be disappointed.  
  I think the hardest struggle is beating myself up for ever having feelings at all.  When you wake up and feel depressed and don't want to hang out or see anyone you think "what's wrong with me?"  
  There's nothing wrong with YOU!  There's nothing wrong with having down days, however the problem is when you look to yourself to fix your problems instead of believing the Lord to be your advocate and to fight the battles for you.  
  The truth is we'll never win on our own.  
  I'm not sure when my new season of laughter will be here.  I have no idea when I'm going to wake up and feel 100% okay again, but I'm prepared...
  
  I've got my dancing shoes ready.
  So there.  If you were wondering - I haven't been myself lately, but I'm sure working my way back! :)


"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace." Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

XOXO

Kimmy

I Ain't Made of Much

I have a confession…

I'm a nerd…

A lyric nerd.

Yes, it's a REAL condition, this nerdliness.  And yes, "nerdliness" is a word! (…maybe…)

     I have a few friends in particular who can witness just how much I like to talk about songwriting.  We could discuss nothing else, and I would be a happy little clam.  Oh, yes, I would be.  Mmhm!  So make me a happy little clam while I bore you with music talk! :)

     I'm not much of a melody girl.  I mean I have to be in order to write songs, but I stand for good lyrics above all else.
     I want my listeners to feel like they've left with a piece of me when they come to my shows.  I pour myself into my songs, and – although sharing them can be one of the scariest, most vulnerable experiences – I think it’s about time I got a little more vulnerable.  

     I’ve been going through a lot in my heart lately, and it’s hard to piece all of that together and string it into one coherent thought.  It really is! 
    Over the past weeks I’ve been quite frustrated with myself.  I’m slowly but surely working on the last song for my upcoming EP.  The problem with this last song is that I don’t actually have ONE song…I have FOUR half songs!  Ugh!  I make it through half of one, hate it, and then I scrap it.  I’m starting to think that I’m losing my mojo here, people!  I might have to resort to desperate measures!  Somebody call for backup! *sigh*

    So send all your warm fuzzy thoughts and prayers to me.  I need to finish this song!  Well…ONE song! 

XOXO

Kimmy

All the Small Things

"All the smalls things..." - Blink 182

     Okay - so I'm not REALLY that into Blink, but it went along with my thoughts today.
I've been trying to get some video footage uploaded onto YouTube so that my small (but growing) fanbase could at least HEAR my music.  When I finally got my hands on some video footage from one of my shows I immediately  began tearing it apart...mentally, of course. 
     Granted, it was filmed on a Blackberry.
     Yes, I'm not sure what I was expecting.
     You're right!  I'm ABSOLUTELY insane.
     But, that's what brings us to my blog to confess that I'm learning to be happy with the small beginnings.

It's so important that we learn to be thankful for the little baby steps.

So, instead of worrying, I'm going to post my lovely video!  I hope you enjoy!  There's more to come and hopefully as I grow in my music career I'll have fancier video footage to post for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgFssXOQ4HQ

XOXO

Kimmy

Music and the Briefcase

I live two lives. 

By day I work in the corporate world.  I shuffle paperwork, and I spend hours on conference calls.  I solve “explosive” shipping problems and ease weary minds about whether or not the customer will get their goods on time.  I wish it were something more along the lines of Superman/Clark Kent, or I’d even settle for a real life version of “Speed.”  But only if I were guaranteed that Keanu Reeves would really be driving the bus…and the bomb wasn’t real.  Okay, okay so that’s not realistic, but who said we were being rational here!?

At about four o’clock every afternoon I roll out of the parking garage and back into my “other life.”  It’s been nothing special for quite awhile.  I get up, brush my teeth, put my shoes on, and – before I fall back into bed sometime early that evening – I go to work.

The truth is I’ve been living a pale, lame shadow of the life I’m supposed to be living.  I’ve pursued my talent of pushing paperwork over my love for music.  It’s not that the two things can’t coincide – it’s just that at some point I sacrificed one for the other.  Why?  Because I am 1,000% confident that I’m capable of succeeding with administrative work.  I’ve always had a knack for quick problem solving and organization.  My people skills are what make me even better at my job.  That’s the easy stuff.  But – therein lies the problem. 

The easy stuff is the problem. 

I’ve been so afraid of a failure that I’m not even sure will ever come that I’ve chosen to pursue the path of least resistance.  What makes this even harder to overcome is that there’s nothing criminal about my life.  I’m a hardworking taxpayer.  I give 100% to what I do, and as I continually excel I receive more work and commendations from the ever-so-thankful corporation.  I’m the type of worker who, if I continue on this career path, will stay with the company until I retire.  They will milk me for everything I’ve got, but I know that’s not the life for me, and for a long, long time I’d forgotten that simple truth.

Really my pursuit of comfort was born out of insecurity.  My ultimate passion is music.  It’s where I feel most comfortable, but it also scares me to death.  The part of me that’s a perfectionist exists in the music.  As I grew older I began to lose that bright-eyed, devil-may-care confidence that I had when I first began to write and play guitar.  To my 16 year old self every song was the “best ever,” and my heart and soul were poured into overly dramatic, dark lyrical lines over simple melodies.  I didn’t care whether anyone else loved them.  To me they were perfect.  However, my honeymoon season didn’t last very long.  Being a silly idealist as I can be (and a hormonal teenager at the time,) it took only a couple run-ins with unnecessarily cruel criticism to make me a recluse. 

So, yes, I’ve hoarded my music to myself for a good eight or nine years now.  Which is why, when I finally stepped up on the stage a few months ago, and performed in front of a crowd – they were blown away.  I had numerous friends come up to tell me that they had no idea I wrote and played like I do.  Not only did I prove to everyone else that I was capable and worthy, but I ultimately proved to myself that I had something to give that had value.  I’m just sad to say that it took me this long.  But, as I’m learning to do, we’re not going to dwell on my ridiculousness.  Well…at least we’re not going to dwell on it in this post.  (There’s plenty of time for that later.)

“Too many people make cemeteries of their lives by burying their talents and gifts.” – John L. Mason

I’ve been living among the dead for so long that I forgot what it was like to truly breathe. 

But, this is me letting you know that now I’m alive and well. 

XOXO

Kimmy