Where was Kat??

Well, Kat was in Europe for two weeks. I got home last night, and am currently fighting the urge to sleep because my brain is telling me it's midnight. I went to 3 countires: Hungary, Austria, and Italy; and 5 cities: Budapest, Hungary; Vienna, Austria; Florence, Italy; Siena, Italy; and Rome, Italy. Experiencing Europe and all its different cultures, languages, and fizzy waters will be something I remember for the rest of my life.

So I'll try to break my trip down into digestable chunks for all you curious people.

The first 4 days we spent in Budapest, Hungary where my grandfather was born and immigrated from when he was eighteen fleeing from the Nazis. The city was more beautiful than I expected. It's split in half by the Danube river, with many beautiful old bridges connecting the hilly Buda side with the metropolis of Pest. First couple days we spent in Pest, where we visited the first recreational park ever in the whole world, the lavish Turkish baths, Hero Square with its huge statues of gladiators, the Synagogue where my grandfather used to attend and my great-grandfather was the cantor, the Jewish ghetto were they lived, and finally the Opera house. The Opera house was spectacular, all the boxes in the auditorium were leafed with gold, the ceiling was muraled with Greek gods and naked babies, and the chandelier was spectacular. My great-grandfather was the tenor here as well, and director of the Opera House for 40 years. While we were touring the lavish rooms, there were lots of busts and words about the other directors who didn't serve nearly as long, but none on my great-grandfather. We thinks it's because he's Jewish, and Hungary is still very anit-Semitic. The people there, according to our native friend Adri, often try to forget about the horrors done there and the Jews who were killed. Seeing the ghettos and visiting the cemetery in the courtyard of the synagogue definitely made it real for me. Below are pictures of the interior of the Opera House, the courtyard cemetery of the Synagogue, Heroes Square, and the Turkish Baths, respectively.



The last few days we toured Buda, which is all hilly and at the top is Castle Hill. It's called that because it is literally full of Medieval castles and beautiful views of the city. But the most beautiful thing on Castle Hill was the Matthias Church with its grand spires and colorful tiles that patterned the roof. Also, the little cobble-stoned streets and painted buildings were very reminiscent of downtown Disney. We also toured the Hospital in the Rock, which was made from underground caves and used during World War II. Below are pictures of the palace on Castle Hill in the background and the Chain Bridge in foreground, a street in Castle Hill, the Matthias Church, and a room in the Hospital in the Rock.


Next we went to Vienna, which is a beautiful city, but a few bad experiences made me not like it as much. First on the train ride there, when we got to our stop, my sister got off but my parents and I didn't get off in time (it goes quick) and the doors closed and Sarah was left on the platform and we went on to the next stop on the other side of Vienna. So we had to take the metro (subway) to the other train station, search for Sarah (no such luck), then went to the hotel where she was sitting waiting. She'd gotten herself a cab, checked us all in, and gotten herself a drink. Good thing she knew what she was doing, at least. Also, my mom left her camera with the pictures from our trip and a few other memory cards of graduations, etc. on the train. That was a bummer. Also on our way home my sister left her iPhone in a restroom in the airport in Vienna and as we were boarding the plane my sister and father were turned away because there passports didn't match up with the boarding pass, so they had to go re-print them last minute, which was stressful. Shaws just do not belong in that city. So anyway, we spent two days there. The first day we went to Vienna's Opera House and saw the first 70 minutes of the opera Tristan and Isodale. The orchestra was beautiful, but I thought the rest was boring and we were in standing room so we weren't going to see the whole five hours. The next day we took a bus tour that rode us all around and told us about the history. We saw a really beautiful building designed by an architect who was the first ecologist, and designed his buildings in such a way to resemble nature, so it had all soft corners and none of it was leveled and instead it rolled with the natural Earth. I think that was the coolest thing I saw in Vienna. We also went on the world's first ferris wheel which provided another great view, and went to St. Stephen's Cathedral. Another cool thing about Vienna I didn't know before we got there is that it is basically the music capital of the world. Mozart and Beethoven were from there, and they had a lovely rose garden and park with their statues in it. Below are the ferris wheel, the cool building with trees and plants on the roof by the ecologist, St. Stephen's Cathedral, and the rose garden and statue in Vienna.



Next we took a train to Florence where we stayed in a cozy little apartment for a week. The building was built in the 12th century, which is pretty crazy that it didn't crumble beneath our feet. Our apartment was two blocks from the river and the Ponte Vecchio which is a beautiful bridge with apartments and shops built into it. Our first full day in Florence we spent in Siena, which was just a short bus ride away. There we walked around a bit and went into their Duomo Church (Duomo means Dome). We also just so happened to be there during this huge festival in prepartion for these horse races which are a big deal there, like the Super Bowl. There were huge groups of men marching around with the colors and flags of their districts, singing and chanting loudly and parading around through the tiny streets. The next few days we spent in Florence, visited the Duomo church there which was even more spectacular than the one in Siena. But most of the time we spent in museums full of famous art by people I've heard of, but didn't know much about. I was really kicking myself in the butt for not taking Art History last year. The most spectacular one though I knew all about already, and that was Michaelangelo's "David", which was huge and perfect and way better in person. We also saw the Museo Galileo which was filled with his old machines, telescopes, and instruments. In a glass case was also Galileo's thumb and two fingers. Bizarre but very cool. We also toured a few palaces and ate lots of pasta and gelato. Below are pictures of the Ponte Vecchio, a view of Florence with the Duomo, and Michaelangelo's "Pieta", which I will talk about more.


Then on Wednesday we took a day trip to Rome via train. Trying to do all of Rome in a day was a huge task, but we pretty much saw everything we wanted to see thanks to Sarah who figured out the metro system, so we got to all the sites very quickly. First we went to the Vatican, walked around St. Peter's Square where in the center was an obalisk from 37 A.D. Everything there was so old, I couldn't really fathom it. We then walked around the Vatican Museum which was full of old Byzantine art and some carvings from the Middle Ages. The museum then led into the Sistine Chapel, which is definitely indescribable. The only part I recognized was the God touching man, which was amazing to see in person, but that was only a tiny part of the whole mural. We then snuck out the side door, blending in with a tour group, and were led right into St.Peter's Basilica, which was huge. It was made of colorful marble, pinks, greens, blacks. Inside the church was Michealangelo's "Pieta", which is a very famous marble statue of Mary holding Jesus after he died. The alter was ornate, and just below the alter was where St.Peter, the apostle, the first pope, was buried. On the left of that was the site where he was crucified (fun fact, he was crucified upside down because he didn't want to be like Jesus, out of respect). Also, on the right side of the church, was the much beloved Pope John XXIII who led Vatican Council II and made lots of reforms in the church, in a glass casket, completely in tact. Not decomposed at all, no preservatives, completely organic. He's being canonized currently, one of the red flags that someone should be a saint is that their body is incorrupted. Pretty cool to see with my own eyes. We then went below the church into the crypts were most of the other popes, including St.Peter, are buried. Below are pictures of St.Peter's Square with the Obalisk, the interior of St. Peter's Basilica, Pope John XXIII in his glass casket, and St.Peter's tomb below the altar.


We then left the Vatican and went to the Trevi fountain, which was just as grand as the Lizzie McGuire Movie depicted. It was in the middle the city, seemed to pop out of no where, and it takes up the whole side of a building. So of course, I made a wish, and threw a coin in over my shoulder. Just like in the movies. Then we went to the Colosseum, which was awe inspiring, again I couldn't believe I was really there and it was really that old and gladiators used to roam those halls. We also walked around some other Roman ruins, and saw this huge memorial to some guy whose name I can't remember. It was a whole building with statues and the tomb of the Unknown soldier. Looked like the friggin' White House. It was a long day, lots of walking, but worth it. Below is the fountain, and the memorial.

We then spent one last day lounging in Florence before we went home. We went to the top of this mountain (by bus, we weren't about to walk that thing) which had a beautiful view of the city. Then we went back to the apartment, arose at 3 a.m. and embarked on our 24 hour trip home. We had a few layovers, overall not too bad. But the last flight was terrible, lots of turbulance, crying babies, and I was dealing with terrible nausea. Barely made it off the plane, plopped into bed at home and stayed up for another 3 hours, exhausted, waiting for sleep to free me from the terrible, soon to be discovered, food poisoning. I didn't even get to enjoy being home until I woke up this morning, stomach pain free, thank God.

It was an overall wonderful trip. But I definitely missed my homies, and not to mention my home. I'm glad to be back.
Much love to you all
~Kat

Hiatus

Yes, sadly, I am going on a 2 week hiatus, and I am leaving my computer behind. But the best part of this little vacation... I will be back! I will probably have plenty of inspiration too, and you will hear all about what the heck I've been up to, maybe even see a few pictures. I am bringing a notebook so I can write still, but I will miss you all dearly.

But for now, I thought I'd give you all "A Little Something Sweet" to savor while I'm away. This is a poem that I wrote just over a year ago, and it was written in the shape of a cupcake, so you'll just have to imagine that. Here it is: A Little Something Sweet.

A bit of cotton candy
A trifle of chocolate
Is worth keeping handy
For when my heart is beat.

Because a little something sweet
Is sometimes all you need
To make a rainy day puddle wonderful
And put your heart at bay

A spoonful of sugar really does help the medicine go down
When you're sick of life
And there's no one around
And the best perscription is to take up a knife...

And cut a bit of cake.

Because remember, life is all about what you make
And the last time I checked
Lemonade was a bit sweeter than lemons to take.

Love you all!
~Kat

Little Freaks

This was me at age nine, and this was how I showed excitement. I would open my jaw as far as it would go, form a double chin, and stand on my tip-toes, arms stick straight by my side. I don't know why I did it, I always have, and sometimes when I am really excited I still feel a strong urge to do it. It took all my might to not make this face at Sarah Kay.

I was a little freak as a child. I used to make this face, I used to crawl around my elementary school on all fours barking because I wanted to be a dog. At recess I would usually prefer to talk with the teachers supervising than the kids my age. I used to pick apart snails with sticks and do "surgery" on them. I was determined I knew what I was doing and would assign body parts to the different little snail bits; "Here's the heart, the bladder, the intestine, etc." I used to walk around Extended Day Care with a dinosaur walk, T-Rexin' my arms, bobbing my head, and snapping my jaw.

The list goes on, unfortunately. But yea, I was totally a little freak. Somewhere along the way, these things became a part of my past and my present did not contain such silly mischief. But honestly, I kind of miss it. I was free to be whatever I wanted, whether that be Snail-Surgeon General, a dog, or a dinosaur.

I know I'm not the only one that was a freaky child, I know someone else that used to walk around with dinosaur arms, too. And I bet you that person still has urges to revert back to their dinosaur days. And really, nothing that we do can ever get rid of our freaky selves. When I started high school, I was ready to start fresh because nobody knew me. I was "free" to do whatever I wanted, be whoever I wanted. The real me, that freaky little girl in the picture, was trapped inside the V-necks and Pointer gear. She was stashed away into my closet with the rest of the skeletons.

But here she is again. I combed through boxes of pictures to find her. I want people to know her, to know me. I'm having fun again, real fun. Fun that's free. Free to be a freak.

This girl never left me. She was always with me every day. She's a part of who I am. And the reason why I'm okay with her now, is because to those of you reading this, who know me pretty well, this probably isn't a surprise. It's not a surprise because I was never truly able to let the freak go. And I never freaking will. And guess what? I will still have friends tomorrow. So whoever said that nobody will like you if you're a freak was wrong. The strongest example of this: Danny Herrera, everyone still loves him.

If your "friends" do care, they aren't true friends. People that mind don't matter, and people that matter don't mind.

So give live free you little freak.

Freckled, Faulty, and Freaky Free
~Kat

Baby Steps

Everyone has to start somewhere, and most of the time the place where we start is rock bottom. No writer begins their first piece in media res and does it correctly, mine was atrocious. No pianist does Chopin for their first recital, mine was "Up on the Housetop", it was two measures long and I messed up more than a few times. No person begins their journey with love as eloquently as Romeo. Most of us begin the journey not even knowing how to recognize love. I know I still can't most of the time.

So if we don't blame the newborn baby for not being able to hold its own head up, why do we get so down on ourselves when we can't do other things right away?

I had another piano recital tonight. I've been playing piano for eleven years, having recitals at least twice a year, so this would be about my twenty-second recital. The first one was "Up on the Housetop" and this one was Chopin's Prelude No.4 in E minor. I've crossed a lot of ground since then. But it's not the applause after I finish a song that is the most memorable for me about recitals, although it definitely is good to know the audience enjoyed it as much as I did. It's the beginning pianists that inspire me the most. They don't yet have their "footing" with the piano, awkwardly trudging along. They have to pause frequently and go back, take a deep breath, and jump back into it. Let me tell you, that is the hardest thing to do. But all these kids, these tiny tikes with pint-sized piano hands and big shining eyes, can brush it off and finish what they started. When they do finish, they get a roaring applause and the biggest grin stretches across their faces. This was me not too long ago, as well. We made it through.

This is something we all can learn from. We all are going to have to mosey on through and stop and start again. Your first essay is not going to have smooth transitions and perfect grammar, your first kiss will not be glamorous. My first kiss, the guy missed my mouth and kissed my nose. But he went for it again and made it. It was gloriously awkward. The first shot at love could very easily be shot down. But through it all, after every missed-kiss, we trudge on. We get back up, we finish what we started. It's a part of life.

But the great thing about failing (yes, you just read that correctly) is that there's always a chance to prove yourself again. And if you're lucky enough to mess up a lot in the beginning, the rest is smooth sailing, because there isn't anything left for you to screw up. Heck, we are all screw ups.

Screwing up is another one of those things we pretend never happens, like poop. But like poop, everyone screws up. Stephen King has a box full of every rejection letter he ever received. He'd been writing and sending stuff in since he was in high school. He didn't get published until he was already married, and his first book was a best seller. He's one of those people that screwed up so much at the start, there was nothing left. And it shows, most of his books are best sellers. He never misses anymore.

So hold your head up, you babies! (Pun intended). Let's screw up together, and then talk about our screw ups. At the very least we can make someone else laugh, at its best we can make someone feel like they're not alone.

Much love and missed-kisses
~Kat

P.S. I love the village idiot ;)

Love.

Nothing is coincidence. Today was beautiful, and none of it was random. Fate dropped us right where we needed to be. We may not always realize it, but there are some moments when the veil is lifted, the crud is scraped from our eyes, and we see the world and the people around us with all the beauty they entail, and nothing less. These are the moments where we can feel infinite, we try to savor the taste of it in our mouth, and soak up as much of it as we can before it crumbles away.

Today was perfect. Today was raw, real, and cleansing. Today was eye opening. Today is a day we will hopefully not forget because today, magic happened.

Right now, I can't know what this day will inspire, who this day will inspire. But I know it did inspire. I can't know where we will go from here, who will be set free, and who will change their ways. But I know some ankles and wrists were unshackled today. Shackles that might have otherwise been left to rust. It didn't take brute strength, pliers, or saws. It took the undressing of old wounds, the sharing of battle scars, getting naked and being vulnerable.

Everyone has a story to be shared. Everyone has a lecture to be learned. Bad and good things will happen in our lives, and they don't happen just for shits and giggles.

If someone had backed out of sharing their story today, today wouldn't have had the impact it did. I know I will never forget what I learned, I will continue to be inspired by the people that were "randomly" dropped into my life. And I will forever be at a loss of how to thank these people. I know this post was all very vague and all over the place, but that's because I'm still letting it marinade. Hopefully after a few days I will be able to properly put my thoughts down and do it justice, but until then, you get the word squirts. Today was not about me or my writing anyway. It was nothing I could have ever produced from my mere fingertips. And I can't express how humbling and wonderful that is.
Love,
Kat

Poop and Periods

If that PP that I spilled up in the title box makes you uncomfortable, well then too bad, I'm not cleaning it up. Not until we talk about it. Personally, I have no problem talking about the movements of my body. Maybe it comes from having a nurse as a mother, but it just doesn't gross me out or embarrass me. The thing is, the entire human population poops every day. Half of the entire human population has periods every month. Why does society tell us that we should be embarrassed or grossed out by something that happens to everybody? It's not like we are the only people clenching our butts and plugging our flow. Happens to the best of us. One Direction, the President, even someone as fabulous as Audrey Hepburn poops. It's kinda funny if you think about it. Imagine another daily activity that we have to do, like eating, and being embarrassed about it. Trying to hide that we are chewing a peanut butter and jelly. Maybe we would even refuse to eat anywhere else besides our house. How weird and pointless would that be?!

I understand that although I'm all about challenging social norms, I'm not about to talk about my cycle and bowel movements with my boss or the Queen of England. But I do think we should be able to talk about it with our peers, or at least acknowledge that it happens. I'm tired of having to clench my butt if I have to fart during class, and then pretending like it wasn't me if I failed to suppress it. I'm especially tired of having to discover new covert ways to cover up the obvious fact that I'm going to the bathroom to change my tampon. We all know that when I take my whole backpack to the bathroom that's what I'm doing. It's especially inconvenient when I don't have a tampon, and need to sneak around and ask people under my breath.

So I'm going to try to be open about my bodily functions and not be embarrassed any longer. Yes, I did just fart. No, I was not "sick" on Monday, I wanted to let my uterine lining shed in peace. It was a great 28 days I had with it, so what if I cry a little and need a day off? The next time I'm at school and need to leave class to change my tampon, I am not going to bring my entire backpack, because ain't nobody got time for that. I am going to take out my tampon, slip it behind my ear, and go.

C'mon ladies, own it. We can start a movement.

~Kat

P.S. Guys should get comfortable with this stuff too. They will have to live with us the rest of their life, might as well begin to understand it now. And ladies, ultimate way to test if your guy friend is true: talk about your period. If they can float with the conversation and be cool, they're a keeper. Alex, you pass.

This is Personal.

That is my first attempt at a personal statement. It's a statement, and it says "this is personal." Get it? I have to confess I was pretty proud of myself for coming up with this witty pun. But a witty pun would not suffice in the mind of a college reader, so here is my second attempt:

Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution, or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?

People tell me I am a kind person. But really I am just a time-traveler, teleporter, and body-swapper. I have perspective, and this has become my most vital quality because without it, I couldn’t do any of the things that are most important to my life. I wasn’t born with this ability, so like most things; it started with a big bang. More like a crash. Of the stock market, that is. When the Great Recession began, my dad’s local business magazine (who’s biggest advertisers were bankers and real estate agents) quickly started to plummet. This was not unusual, lots of people were hurting, but as a twelve year old I didn’t have a perspective wider than that of my personal bubble. When I would ask my mom for things we normally could’ve afforded, and she would tell me no over and over again, I couldn’t understand why. Exasperated she finally said, “Look at it from my perspective. We just had to buy another house because we couldn’t afford our old one. We’ve been trying to sell our old one for almost a year, paying two mortgages. Your dad has no income, I’m working overtime. There is no extra money. No.” This began the shift from knowing nothing about the “grown-up stuff” to needing to know all about it in order to understand. I finally started seeing different perspectives other than my own.

Everyone has a story, and this realization started to infiltrate my daily activities. This began the body-swapping days. If my teacher was yelling at us, I would try to put myself in her shoes. She has kids of her own, doesn’t make very much money, she could have had a bad morning; I’ll be extra nice to her today. She would do that for me. By getting into the habit of thinking like this, how I treated everyone started to change for the better. This came in handy later when junior year my fellow members of poetry club at school got in a misunderstanding with our advisor and began giving him the cold shoulder and not showing up. Because of my ability to see perspective, I saw the problem for what it was (a misunderstanding) and was able to start to mediate the conflict. This “body-swapping” as I call it led to the kindness that people see in me and the belief that because everyone has a story, there is something to be learned from everyone.

The time-traveling started when I was six and was put into piano lessons, but I didn’t see it as that until I applied a new perspective to playing piano, and found a new passion for it. When I started playing my first classical piece, Chopin’s Prelude in E minor, I hated it. It was dreary, depressing, and boring. But when I saw it from a new perspective given in a TED talk, the piece came to life in a new way. The speaker, Benjamin Zander, prompted the audience to think of someone you loved very much but no longer was with, and you would hear everything Chopin had to say. It transformed the Prelude from boring to relevant, and although it was still dreary, I could share and connect with the exact emotions Chopin was feeling as he was writing it. It still astounds me to think about how I can experience the same perspective of a French man, who doesn’t speak the same language, or live in the same century as me. That is as about close to time travel as anyone can get, with reading and writing at a close second.


I stopped writing it here because I felt it was getting off topic and I didn't like it anymore. It was sounding too much like a TED talk. But this was my first go around, so it can only get better from here. Hopefully I can figure it out soon!
~Kat