life

Karen's memorial was today.

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 00:27 on 24 August 2004

Karen's memorial was today. It was hard. Mom asked me to take photographs of the people speaking. That was hard. There were easily 200 people at the memorial. The auditorium seats 250, which some empty seats, but some people standing in the back.

Women's pole vaulting

Blog kitt decided around 22:46 on 19 August 2004 to publish this:

Womens pole vaulting debuted in the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney (an American, Stacy Dragila, won the gold). As more people are involved in extreme sports, pole vaulting has gained in popularity.

When I was in 9th grade, attending Benjamin Franklin Junior High School (renamed to Benjamin Franklin Middle School in 1986, go fig), I was on the track team for a while. "A while" because I was kicked off the team. "Why?" you may ask. Because I was in the drama club.

Kid you not.

I had made arrangement with the drama teacher to be absent from the play practices so that I could run track. Track was from 2:30 until about 4, drama was from 3 until 5. I could run track, then hightail it over to drama for any practice I needed.

The track coach, a one Miss Ann Davies, didn't think this was reasonable, and told me that, since I had a part in the spring play, I wasn't allowed to run in track. I couldn't do both. Earlier, I had actually asked said Miss Davies if I could learn to pole vault. Pole vaulting was taught at Ben Franklin, usually in the 7th grade, but new vaulters were taught each.

New male vaulters, that is.

Ann Davies informed me that she was not going to allow me to learn pole vaulting because it was a waste of time. There was no need to learn pole vaulting because girls didn't pole vault.

Ah, we see where this is going, eh?

I believe Ann Davies thought I was a nuisance, and used any available excuse to remove me from the team. I may have been a nuisance, asking for an opportunity to fly with the boys, but that choice allow me to pole vault or not wasn't hers to make.

And now we see women pole vaulters in the Olympics. I'm not one of them. To which I have but four words to say:

"Fuck you, Ann Davies."

If I meet you on the street, I will spit on you.

UPA, here I come!

Blog Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 23:35 on 18 August 2004

I just heard from the UPA regarding the IS programmer position I applied for a couple months ago:

Date:    Wed, 18 Aug 2004 16:50:36 -0600
From:  	 Sandie Hammerly
To:  	 Kitt Hodsden
Subject: Still interested?

Hi Kitt:

Sorry to be so long in getting back to on the contract IS
programmer position - But if you are still interested, we
would like to make you an offer.

Basically we would like to consider at least 20 hours per
week....and maybe more....depending on other commitments
that you have.

We would have to work out all the details, you know 
contracts and short and long term work plans....But if you
are still interested, we can offer {editorily removed} an
hour to start....

Interested?

Sandie Hammerly
Executive Director
Ultimate Players Association

Heh. Interested? You betcha! An opportunity to combine two things I love doing (programming and ultimate). A chance to be known by thousands! What a deal!

Mom wins my heart.

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 14:57 on 11 August 2004

Mom sent me this email. She nearly had me in tears.

Date:    Wed, 11 Aug 2004 09:35:23 -0700
From:  	 Vicki B
To:  	 Kitt Hodsden 
Subject: RE: Good morning!

> Overwhelmed with things I want to do, but not overwhelmed
> with things I have to actually do.  So, doing okay.

I can certainly relate to that! I don't know if I ever told 
you this, but I admire you for leaving your last job. It's a 
real act of courage to step away from something that's 
comfortable and provides a reasonable income. Whenever I think
of you doing that, I always see one of those high divers off
some cliff in Mexico, leaping out into the sky with such
incredible freedom, arcing down toward the water. I just love
that image, the idea of not being confined, touched by nothing
but air.  You're my idol.

M

Wow.

ABCs & Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?

Blog Posted by kitt at 00:29 on 1 August 2004

Omigod.

I just realized that the ABC rhythym is the same as the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Actually, I didn't realize. I had to be told it.

Omigod. I am so clueless.

Disappointment

Blog kitt decided around 13:06 on 26 July 2004 to publish this:

I don't like dealing with disappointment. I think everyone can say he doesn't like disappointment, but some deal with it better than others. I'm one of those others. Today's disappointment is with our wedding thank you cards.

Our friends and family have been incredibly generous to us. The gifts from our wedding have been abundant and overflowing.

My belief with gifts is that you shouldn't use them until you have properly thanked the giver. I define proper here as "send them a hand-written thank you note." As a result, we have stacks of gifts unused because we haven't written the thank you card yet.

One can, at this point, imagine the cramps one might get from writing thank you notes for many gifts. The process takes time. Each card should be personalized, say something to the giver that's meaningful.

Did I mention Kris hates writing thank you cards?

So, we divided this task up into two parts: I would write the thank you cards, stuff the card into an envelope, put a stamp and return address label on the envelope and address the card to the recipient. In return, Kris would sign the card (after my "Kitt and"), find the recipient's address for the card, write said address on the card and mail it.

Easy enough.

Three weeks ago I handed Kris a stack of 20 thank you cards to mail out.
I received all but 2 of them back this morning. All but 2.

Here I thought all these cards had gone out. I could freely use the gifts. I could talk to my friends without worrying if they thought I was a slacker (because obviously I was not, I had my thank you cards out within days of returning from the honeymoon!).

I was mistaken.

Ignorance may be bliss, but disappointment hurts.