Katie Leggitt

There's a song at the end of Dazed and Confused that always makes me feel like the story is wrapping up, I know the credits are near, everything has come together and it's time to move on.  Tuesday's Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.   Great song. I was just listening to Ryan Adam's new iTunes Session album, and was struck with the same feeling.  It seems the best songs that hit home are always the ones that feel like they summarize your experience, like they speak to you in ways that others don't. I've never been a big fan of pop music.  Fluffy lyrics that distort reality and make girls feel inadequate don't interest me.  Music that speaks to the soul... Now that's where it's at.  Sometimes it's not even the lyrics that do it, sometimes it's the pace, the intention or the light-hearted voices that lift me up. I picked up The Very Best of Roy Orbison last week, I've been craving the sound of his voice recently so I finally caved and bought

Keep your arms up and open, Keep smiling, Stop grappling; Let the motion take you. Fight for what it's worth, Do your hair and look out For your neighbor. Hip tattoos, Four green spikes, Hairspray and egg whites Tambourine ear wax, Solos, glasses, Trombone canoe. Humor. Wheelchair. Order. Clap your hands, Ribbon and rafters, Dreads. Slap ouch bang, Celebrate glory. Fun and love, Planet Smashers. 2012.

Someone told me last night that my blogs are like candy.   But like really good candy, cuz it makes you feel good, like fruit.   I thought that was pretty awesome. The truth is sometimes I wish I could write what’s really on my mind, but I’d probably shock a couple relatives and burn some bridges, so it’s best to stay family-friendly.   Suffice it to say you wouldn’t BELIEVE what’s in my journals. ;) I suppose it’s the difference between planting a seed in people and being totally open.   Often times, I am far too impatient to let something grow and I usually go full-throttle in my pursuits, which tends to sabotage opportunities for myself, especially in the man-department.   I poured my heart out to a stranger at the theatre last night; I figure people are the best resources in times of frustration.   I thought perhaps this unknown person, with all his years of living, could help clear my mind, could give me good advice, could tell me what I wanted to hear and solve my dilemma but in

May I introduce you to Chuck Ragan .  I accidentally discovered him last week and though it may sound a tad dramatic, I'm pretty sure he changed my life.  Or at least helped put things into perspective. I'm an open book.  Ask me anything and I can't help but be totally honest and up front, in the nicest way possible.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and probably reveal more than I should in my writing, but I've discovered something incredibly enlightening this past week: impermanence. Last Monday I posted a beautiful picture of my beautiful mantle in my beautiful living room and entitled it "Impermanence."  See, I don't get to keep it.  I'm actually moving out.  It seems the fates and the universe are ushering me to a new place, and it's not in Manoir Old Orchard, as I'd so hoped.  It turns out it's been more of a nightmare than a dream home.  I think the mice was the last straw.  But they'd probably eat that too, so it's time

Seems like an awkward way to meet someone, doesn't it?  Over a fart. After the awesome show I went to last night, which I will tell you all about later, I went to an awesome party featuring bands, ponies, and a pie-eating contest.  Yes, I said ponies.  There were two of them. Anyway I was watching one of the bands play some rockabilly in the living room, when someone let it rip, something fierce. And there were enough people to blame it on, but I made eye contact with the guy standing next to me and I said, "Someone's just making popcorn."  He laughed and blamed me and then walked away.  Later I saw him outside and the blame continued. I honestly thought someone had made popcorn, but the culprit later admitted it to me when he let one go again.  How much popcorn does one man have to eat to make it stink like that?! Drew and I hit it off but I guess he could never get past the thought that my farts could smell so bad, I later saw him hitting on another lady, wh