i used to run track—this is called the final stretch

Almost finished! I can’t wait for my family to come in saturday—mostly because none of my friends have met my parents, and now they will see why I am me. I just got off the phone with my grandpa who isn’t recovering as fast as he thought he would from his foot surgery. He feels so sad about not being able to make it now, but I think foot surgery is more important. I told him i can reenact everything for him when I go to Florida to visit next. This will also give me a chance to re-wear the $70 dollar graduation outfit they make you buy. Worth it I guess.. Maybe I can sell it to Lindsey or Ferrell at reduced price.

light at the end of the tunnel

hello readers! I’m alive, I swear! graduation has proved to be a way bigger project than I had expected. Since last thursday I have yet to hit the sack before 4 a.m. But I’m on a roll, and I’m glad I got into work mode early on, despite that it has been wonderful outside lately. Last night was the last of my letterpressing for my business cards. I HATE REGISTRATION. That is what I learned. I was pretty happy with the outcome. For my first time printing with custom plates and size 7 type I was super excited about how they came out, though if I had to do it all over again I would definitely make some changes. Jarred was in the lab with me pressing his plates, too. I got to teach him how to use the press, and by the end he was makin cards like nobody’s business. I think I like teaching more than I thought.

Also, I am now the proud owner of kimkoelling.com! It’s nothing special right now, but my whole summer project is to be able to create an awesome website just coding html and css into my text edit. websites from scratch. I’m hoping for the best.

I just finished making my grad announcements, putting them in envelopes and realizing I don’t have any addresses. my head hurts. my body hates me right now..

I just finished watching my favorite Dawson’s Creek episode. The one where Pacey and Joey get locked into the big Kmart store, and have to use the Pj’s and toothbrushes from the shelves, get to watch movies on the plethora of tv’s agains the wall and, at the end of the night, share a sleeping bag on turf next to a tent and fake grill. I could watch Dawson’s Creek from the first episode to the last, over and over until there are too many scratches and it gets too frustrating to try and fast forward through the glitches.

Aside from Dawson’s Creek, there are not many lovey dovey things I like these days. I’m not sure how I switched to heartbreaker and how it stuck so well, but I think it’s good for the time being. I prefer Lone Ranger, anyway. I even had to stop reading a book this spring break, for fear I might vom on its public library pages and have to pay a fee for such a terrible book. But then my diet coke exploded on it so I guess fate has its own intentions. I picked it exclusively because the cover was wonderful. Judging covers and recommendations are my two best book reading strategies, and this was the first time judging the cover has let me down.

Sadly, it was also the only other book I’d brought with me on spring break to Alabama. My whole plan for the break was to read a pile of books and make the perfect bloody mary from scratch. I ended up reading one book and had only one bloody mary from a mix. fail. I did get to do a bunch of other things I was looking forward to, though. Because Spence came, my friend from high school and good family friend, we got to take the boat out!

With my parents having met through sailing, I’ve always had a respect for boats, and docks and anything marine related, but it has also created a huge dependence on my dad, the captain. It was only this past summer that I finally had my first sailing lesson. And though I’ve seen my dad take out hundreds of boats, motor and sail alike, I had never been captain. I surprised myself this week. I remembered the bay as if I’d grown up there; Pirate’s Cove—the best chicken strips and onion rings—west down the Intercoastal, Sand Island—a natural erosion phenomenon perfect for sand boarding—east down the Intercoastal, minutes after the giant bridge and 30 minute No Wake Zone. I navigated our way through the channels as if they were the streets of my old hometown neighborhood. While fishing in the posted area, everyone cast out their lines and I took the wheel. Someone would get a bite and the fish would take off hook-in-mouth. Like hunters I steered the boat to loosen the slack, and the fisherman reeled in the line. We tried our best to tire the fish, but each time the line broke, and our dinner swam off with a free shrimp dinner. Better luck next year..

We only got lost once but after remedying my rusty directional judgement, we ended up making it to “secret beach”, pulling the boat onto the sand from the bay and running over to the other side of the strip to confront the ocean. We laid down towels, and turned on Real Estate as the boys ran off to amuse themselves with the waves, a guitar or the football. Ferrell and I sat on the towels eating chips and pineapple with sandy hands, taking pictures of each other with our analog cameras while the verse sang about the same beach we were synchronously making our own.

I think that was my favorite episode from last week.

I’ll post pictures after they’re developed Saturday!

itchin to get outta here

fishing, reading, boating, tanning, beaching, sand boarding, frying, grilling, eating, playing, exploring, thinking, dreaming, writing, movie-ing, floating, swimming, bocce-ing, drinking, sitting.

I can’t wait.

But I have to. One more week!
good morning

This morning was one of the good ones. I had to wake up early to drop Lindsey off at work, but I like saving her. I went back home and slept more, burying under my comforter to block the bright overcast skies that were somehow filling my room with bright. I woke up finally after hearing the campanile, but didn’t move until I counted the gongs to figure out what time it was. I thought about how that’s how they would have done it in the old days instead of looking at their cell phones. I cooked my veggies with curry powder and toasted some Wheatfields bread I got from Veggie Lunch on thursday. I sat down in the living room and put on the Bob Dylan record I got in Germany and hadn’t listened to yet. Man it was good. It was a tiny bit warped so I set a penny on the needle and fixed—I love the cracks and sounds of vinyl. The next record in the lineup was Cream’s Once Upon a Time.

I have loved Cream ever since listening to them on family road trips to Alabama. I don’t love all the music my dad made us listen to, but nothing says Koelling road trip like Cream, Queen, and Barry White. After Cream, Ferrell had woken up and Aaron had walked over out of unadulterated boredom, and the record was changed to Dan Fogelberg. What a man. Dan Fogelberg is the man Ferrell’s dad listened to on family road trips to colorado. The record is actually Trent’s, Ferrell’s brother. Though Trent is what some call a “music elitist” he is not immune to listening to the family road trip bands either. Listening to these bands on vinyl, I can’t help but imagine that 30 years ago on a similar Sunday morning in college my dad would have had the same routine: waking up a little hungover, putting on his favorite Cream album and starting some homework.

Now I’m listening to Real Estate. I like it more every time I listen to it.

what babes.

a soulful shade of blue

Yesterday was a significant improvement. Things that helped: working with wonderful people, learning korean with donnie, henry’s-ing with a good latte and a good book, watching A Single Man and drooling over pretty boys, eating homemade soup with josiah (the soup-chef) while drinking good red wine and listening to neko, talking with my sister about human things.

What a vicious winter it is.


Lately I’ve felt weird. I think it is probably just symptoms of Senioritis, but I feel like I’ve been tested this semester with adequacy issues. First off, this semester I have my internship at a design firm in Kansas City. I know I’ve been doing this design jig for 4 years almost, but every week I still enter the building slightly intimidated. Not to mention, because of this “real life” transitioning I’ve needed to transition into a more professional look, i.e. business casual. This has really taken a toll on my Sanrio collection. Kidding, but seriously.. I used to have no problem shopping and finding things that I loved, and made people say “that’s so you” or “only you could pull that off that well.” Probably because they though my outfits were like a crazy person’s, but still! I had a style. A statement. Now I’m buying blazers and lacy tops, but only if Ferrell gives me the OK. I can’t help but think I peaked in High School in the “having everything together” category.

I also just started a job on Mass at ACME (hot and fresh t-shirts made to order!) I have the subliminal messaging down, but I’m still going through training with customers and pressing shirts, and whatnot. I don’t know why I give myself the expectations of starting off knowing everything. It’s never going to happen. This is also an issue in my french class right now. I have a hard time speaking up if I’m not 100% sure I’m right. Where did all this pride come from?

Now I’m about to graduate. I have to think of a life plan in order to answer everyone’s questions about my future. I have no idea what I want to do, where I want to go, who I want to be. My only certainty is wanting to do Peace Corps which is not even guaranteed, and actually extremely competitive. bah. HOW am I already almost finished with college? I swear I just started..

And Lindsey keeps hassling me about really wanting to be my bridesmaid..
dream day in lawrence

To all my Lawrence readers: if you could have a dream day in Lawrence what would it be? I finally had mine Friday. After my early class ended, I headed to Mass St. to roam. It’s my favorite place to wander. I had called The Dusty Bookshelf earlier to check on a book, and Josiah answered ordering me to come by and hang out. Carless and desperate, I had Ferrell drop me off and escaping the bitter cold and vicious flurries, I opened the door and started perusing the stacks. I tried my hardest to find the section I was looking for without any assistance, but alas I failed. Tyler, another Dusty Bookshelfer, set down her duster and guided me straight to the travel section. In less than a second, my eyes had jumped to the shiny blue spine reading: The South American Handbook 2006 edition by Fodors. I went around the corner to the neighboring nook with bookshelf walls of different genres. This nook houses the comfy green felted arm chair, referred to by some as “Alice’s chair”. Alice is the store cat with giant eyes.

After getting the evil eye from Alice a few times, I moved to the floor and sprawled out with my paper and note-taking utensils. Josiah stumbled upon Alice and me in the middle of a staring contest (I won) and offered me some tea. YES PLEASE! I responded. He asked what kind I would like, and without hesitation I requested my favorite, peppermint, which he wasn’t sure they had. Minutes later, Josiah returned with two steaming mugs, one smelling particularly of peppermint. Yum! So there I sat, planning a dream trip to a foreign place, drinking peppermint tea and picking Josiah’s memory about his past trip to Peru, hearing about places I “just have to see.” I wrote notes about every country south of the equator, falling in love with the idea of visiting each one and dreaming up future memories I have yet to make. Another snowy winter day escaped!

Oh, and I get a discount at the Dusty Bookshelf now, because of my new job at Acme.

Livin the dream.