Yay, interracial love in America! Kennedy and I, having been a long-term mixed-race couple, go crazy when we see another pair on the street.

(Okay, just kidding. We have both been in interracial relationships, but not with each other. Not for lack of trying on my part though.)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9970088)

Not that I'm surprised...

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/30038757/dear-wendy

dear wendy,

now would be a lovely time for a sister sister chat. I can teach you all the new words I picked up in the locked psych ward. Like “umbringen” (to kill oneself)

my skype name is: heidelbergduck.

can’t wait to hear from you!

love

Courtney

03.21.08, 10:28 AM

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/3584.html

Could you be any less friendly?

• Mar. 3rd, 2008 at 10:08 PM

Last night I didn't sleep. So today was sort of a blurrrrr. I woke up and did some things. Class happened. There was a presentation of some sort. There was singing involved. Then I had a nap. Dragged myself out of bed with the greatest reluctance and regret that I'd made plans to interact with someone. Had Cuba's favorite drink with my Sprachparterin. Arrived at my psychiatry appointment. Late. After having walked around for half an hour looking for the right building. And asking several people. And panicking. Dr Wiesemann was less than amused at my tardiness. It was only 13 minutes. Go fuck yourself.

We sit down in his office and he stares at me and asks gruffly, "Was ist Ihr Problem?" No hello, no nice to meet you. No given that you're in a psychiatrist's office you've probably been having a hard time, how have you been doing? So I started rattling off and he listens and finally asks me something about a Beweisung. I have NO IDEA what this word means, and ask him to explain it. And he looks PUT OUT ABOUT IT. Annoyance actually registers on his face. I'M SPEAKING TO YOU IN GERMAN YOU ASSHOLE. If you want perfect comprehension then stop being a lazy bastard and speak to me in English. You don't see me criticizing you because you're not fluent in English. After about 10 minutes he prescribes me Effexor (what my sister took), and tells me to reduce my Citalopram from 40 MG to 20. At the same time. Is this normal? I thought I was supposed to go off one and then start the other. But apparently I can start it right away. Hurrah?

My friend Tara had an appointment right after me (she's manic-depressive) and she was even more upset about her appointment than I was. We cooked dinner together (there were vegetables involved! her idea, not mine.) and then she stayed over for some drinks and company. Now I'm about to watch Braveheart, when I should be doing my homework. Good job, Courtney.

Also. When can I have German friends?

there is no emoticon to express the depths of my despair

• Mar. 10th, 2008 at 11:33 AM

alone. sick. in a crazy country, where apparently everyone goes to the doctor at the first sign of a scratchy throat. receiving concerned looks from Americans who are not yet my friends, and being sent home by Germans who think I'm sick because I'm so small.

I hate other people's gratitude.

There is no one to take care of me.

you have to buy cold medicine at the pharmacy here. the drogerie only sells shampoo, tampons, and chocolate.

I am such a whiny mess when I am sick. And there is no one to receive my whiny-ness here in Krautland.

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/30374574/a-river-runs-through-it

Because, for me, the equivalent of doing what Spencer did is to kill myself. To drink bleach. To jump in front of the train. To take all of those sleeping pills I need because my anti-depressants give me insomnia. But no one is there telling me that it is ok. No one is saying that it’s so hard and I did all that I could do for as long as I could do it, and that it makes sense that I reached the end of what I could handle. They say those things to Spencer, but to me they say that things will get better. They say that there are so many people who love me and who would be devastated to lose me. They say that I HAVE to keep trying, to keep fighting, to keep struggling, to keep hoping and hoping and hoping that one day I won’t have to try so hard just to be happy. Family can’t just give up either. He had told me that I was family, but I’ve realized that I’m not and I never was. Because family isn’t allowed to get tired or give up or breakdown. He would never tell his mother “I can’t do this anymore.” But girlfriends, are not wives. They are girlfriends, and therefore not family. And I was just stupid and naïve to believe otherwise.

For the past two nights I’ve dreamt that he left me in a forgivable way and that I desperately wanted him back. I’ve dreamt that I’ve begged and cried and coaxed him to love me again. In my dreams, I’m humiliated. When I wake up, I’m confused and can’t figure out if it’s true that I want him back. I start mentally composing emails to him begging him to change his mind, until, in a gesture of great mercy, unconsciousness reclaims me. When a relationship doesn’t work out, people always tell you that you’ll recover, you’ll get over it, you’ll move on. But I wonder if that’s true for me. Because, you see, it’s not SPENCER that I’ve lost. It’s the belief that someone will be willing and able to deal with my depression forever. That feeling of safety with another person. Will I let myself have that again? Because a husband can leave and a boyfriend can leave and a friend can leave. Every one can leave. Everyone leaves. Except sisters. Sisters have to stay.

03.31.08, 01:10 PM

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/29970257/pondering

Anyway. It’s slowly coming out (in a painfully piecemeal fashion) that the other person in my former relationship was unhappy for quite some time before he finally ended things. I believe someone used a phrase something like “spiraling downward for months” (my emphasis). Hearing this made me immediately climb into bed after popping not one but two sleeping pills and not emerging until 5 pm today. Despite having two guests who sort of awkwardly waited outside and occasionally wondered aloud if they should maybe wake me up at some point.

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/30770264/current-feelings-about-being-dumped

current feelings about being dumped

“It’s unnerving

How just one move puts me by myself

There you go just trusting someone else

Now I know I put us both through hell

I’m not saying there wasn’t nothing wrong

I just didn’t think you’d ever get tired of me

I’m not saying we ever had the right to hold on

I just didn’t wanna let it get away from me

But if that’s how you’re gonna leave

Straight out from underneath

Then we’ll see who’s sorry now

If that’s how it’s gonna stand, when

You know you’ve been depending on

The one you’re leaving now

The one you’re leaving out

It’s aggravating

How you threw me on and you tore me out

How your good intentions turn to doubt

The way you needed time to sort it out”

I’ve found that moving on is much easier when you feel wronged.

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/36266532/martina-you-are-such-a-bad-influence

2: 00 am. class in 7 hours. drunk. GERMANY I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH YOUR DRINKING HABITS.

And her parting words were, of course, soo Friday? Beer? Dancing? More beer? Meals seem completely unnecessary with the amount of beer these people drink. How can you fit sausage in your stomach? I just saw you drink 4 LITERS OF PILS.

Sleep sleep sleep. Feeling better. At first, I admit, I felt pretty pathetic. Here I was, feeling sad all over again when I had been well on my way to recovery. Why was I crying over this asshole? It seemed absurd. And then, it came to me. I EARNED these tears. Why am I upset over this betrayal when he’s clearly moved on to some other, I’m sorry to say, foolish girl? Because I’m pathetic? No. Because I was LOYAL. Because instead of slowly withdrawing from my relationship without letting him know about it, I was IN it. I was there, I was committed. I was honest. So, yes. It sucks that I’m still getting over the person who so easily discarded me and then offered nothing more than, “I’m putting my life back together; I hope you can do the same.” It sucks more than I want it to. It hurts more than I want it to. But all this proves, is that I’m brave enough and self-aware enough to laugh when I’m happy, and to say when I’m not. Before I’m so over the relationship that I feel ready to jump into another one a week and a half later. I’m emotionally mature enough to own my pain and recognize that diving into another committed relationship less than two weeks later is probably not the healthiest way to recover from heartache. I’ll serve my time, because my heartache was well-earned. So I’ll cry my tears, and I’ll call Gwen every few days when I relapse. And then, I’ll move on knowing that my deportment hasn’t left half of my friends feeling ashamed of the person I’ve become.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9970127)

No wonder she gets into bar fights.

http://www.truveo.com/Kennedy-Punches-My-Groper/id/1654082042

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9970140)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwTZ2xpQwpA

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9970208)

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/36048432/as-requested-by-lenathatdemandingwhore

as requested by lenachenthatdemandingwhore

hahaha what would I say? My heart is broken. I hate most of the people I know at Harvard. it’s hard to paint your fingernails when your hands are shaking?

05.25.08, 10:43 PM

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/36013480/instead-i-chose-vodka-and-chaka-khan

Anyway. We finally left as the place was closing. I was exhausted, anticipating a hangover, and having been amazed by my ability to walk a straight line, silently attempting to repeat the alphabet backwards. Just as I was about to express my exhaustion, Martina piped up and said, I’m not tired at all! Want to have a beer or some wine when we get back?

…

Martina. You know that sound you’re hearing right now? Those are birds chirping. And see how the sky is changing color? THE FUCKING SUN IS RISING.

We had wine. And more cigarettes. She asked me how I was doing about the most recent twist of the knife and then recounted a story of a friend who called her from thailand with the news that her boyfriend had given her herpes and HPV. I conceded (reluctantly) that it could be worse. Spencer fucked me, but at least he didn’t leave any diseases behind. When Martina suggested we now move on to beer I had to put my foot down. I wasn’t wasted so much as dehydrated and vaguely nauseated by the smell of cigarette smoke all over me. Of course, having bid my farewells, I did nothing to remedy either of these problems, neither drinking water (instead stupidly chose orange fanta?), nor taking a shower (tooooo farrrr).

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/35524461/people-have-started-to-complain

people have started to complain

it’s been a few weeks. this has been my life. anca smokes in the bathroom when she’s stressed. I don’t like the taste. it makes me feel slightly ill. it’s delightfully self-destructive.

I wake. I try to go to class. But usually I don’t. I take my medicine. It takes away my sadness and my appetite. I try to remember to eat. But I usually I don’t. Gwen asks me to drink a glass of milk. She asks nicely. I agree. But usually I don’t. Sometimes I make it to class and I try to pay attention. The words on the board blur together and professors avoid eye contact. Germans are too polite not to look away. I don’t try to hide it from people. My give a damn’s busted. I read. and read. and read. and read. people comment on my voracious appetite for literature. Catch-22, Wuthering Heights, fantasy fantasy fantasy. I devour. Hours. Days.

I sat in the theater and wondered if it would be equal to my books. to distract me. it did the trick. I was pleasantly surprised.

I listen to the songs over and over and over and over. the pleasure that my sadness brings. I stroke it, I caress it, I try to throw it away then frantically dig it out of the trash. I’m scared to let it go. I light a fag. and another and another. my appetite blinks out of existence. I cry and distantly note that I no longer sob. I weaken, I tire, I read and read and read. I inhale. it pleases me. the nicotine is nothing compared to the knowledge of days being shaved off, one puff at a time. it is a slow cowardly suicide. one that people can accept. they protest, but they assume it helps me cope. it does. it reminds me that it is possible to die. it is possible to die. I read and read and read. heroines and thieves and magic in unexpected places blurrrr. I consider the life of pi. I consider turning to God. he is the better story. I take a shower and look for Sascha. I walk outside. I light a cigarette. Lyrics to my sad sad life flit across my mind. I think about writing them down. Commemorating. Explaining. She said that it would be wonderful to say you regretted it. It would be easy. I look for a pen to record The Hours that I face. always the hours. the minutes. the years. the days after that and after that and after that. Sometimes I find a pen. But usually I don’t. I wonder if someone will be able to deal with this. with me. always this. it always comes back. I think that maybe they will. But probably they won’t.

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/31866889/no-more-teachers-dirty-looks

no more teachers' dirty looks

one week of school successfully completed. all in all I think I maybe attended three classes. they like to start off slowly here in Deutschland. don’t want anyone overexerting themselves too early on. a few things I’ve noticed thus far. no one takes notes on their laptops. in fact, I’m not entirely convinced people own laptops. also, it’s somehow ok for students to talk during lecture? even in small classes of 10 or 12 people. the professor talks and sort of…disregards the fact that his audience is carrying on mini conversations. indiscreetly. the one time a professor called someone out for this was during my russian class. finally! I thought. I get to see some first class German discipline. psych! she told them that it was fine for them to talk, but only if it was in Russian.

….

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?

Also, “reading” doesn’t appear to be a thing here. One of the Folk & Myth classes I shopped had a tentative reading list. Not written out on the syllabus. Just orally given to us at the end of class. The professor said, oh yeah, here’s this book. It would probably be a good idea if you had it read by the end of the semester. Then, my personal favorite, was a four hour long seminar. I asked the girl sitting next to me what books we would be reading, and she looked at me surprised. “Why, we don’t have any reading.” Umm…I’m sorry. Why is this a seminar, then? And how the hell are we going to use FOUR HOURS if we don’t have any reading to discuss? Not to worry, though. I’m definitely not taking the class. It’s on Cultural Geography, and I had never heard of this topic so I decided to check it out. 10 minutes into the class I glanced at my neighbor’s syllabus and saw that during week 8 we would be discussing Sex & the City. I wondered if it would be rude for me to just pick up my things and leave. Concluded that it would be, so I managed to wait an hour and a half until our 20-minute break. And then just didn’t come back. Knowing the Germans, they didn’t wait for me to start the class. Punctuality is their only God. The last interesting thing happened in my second Folk & Myth class. It was 15 past, the exact moment when class was supposed to start. I hear someone running behind me and turn around just in time to see the professor zip past, out of breath, and take up his place at the podium. I was so stunned. And I realized, that I’d never actually seen a professor run. I wanted to say to him, you’re a professor! your students’ time is meaningless! didn’t you get the memo!

I’ve never been somewhere with this few black people. It’s awkward. Like when we went to the Sinti and Roma museum and our guide pulled me and a white midwestern girl aside and said, “it would be like you calling her nigger in the US, no?” to describe the derogatory term used for Roma under Nazi Germany. Hmm. Thanks for that. On Thursday, the end of my work week, I saw a total of 3 black people. One was speaking accent-free English. One was albino. I only recognized him as black because his white hair had a nappy texture. The same day, I saw 3 times as many white people with dreadlocks. Literally. As in 9. I counted. And then rounded down. Here’s the German wikipedia page for dreadlocks: www.de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreadlocks Notice that 2 of the 3 pictures feature white people.

04.13.08, 07:30 PM

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/31274033/you-tell-me-you-live-with-the-threat-of-my

"You tell me you live with the threat of my extinction...I live with it, too."

It’s time for an attempt at closure. And for me, that first and foremost includes honest, uninhibited fury. Every time I think I’m getting there, starting to forget. That Sylivia’s forgetfulness, like a kind snow, has numbed and covered them, something new comes up. Some new delightful little detail that violates what peace I’ve made with the last weeks. So I’m just going to have this one last depiction of how I have and continue to experience this. And then I never want to hear anything about this situation or these people again. To clarify, “these people” include: Frances, Leo, and Spencer. This is the situation as I saw it. People (not necessarily the same people I never want to hear from again) who thought that I was ABOUT TO KILL MYSELF. That I was in so much danger, I couldn’t be left alone. That my Dean needed to be contacted and someone needed to be sent to my flat in Germany at some God awful time. They disaFUCKINGppeared. And somehow, it seems, they expected that my heretofore FUCKED TO HELL brain chemistry would, in an incredible example of “taking one for the team,” get its shit together because it was no longer convenient to be dangerously out of control. Someone else was in need, so my pain and my crisis would have to wait. I had had my turn, and now it was someone else’s. This was hard to hear. But. At least I took comfort in the knowledge that Spencer was really in need and that they had simply been worried and distracted and panicked and forgotten about me. It stung. It stung a lot. But it was a surmountable betrayal. And NOW I learn that there was an actual conscious PLAN to stop talking to me because talking to me was hard for SPENCER? Spencer who was surrounded by people who cared about him and knew him and loved him who, while in a very dark place, was not at risk of slitting his wrists? And to think I actually felt GUILTY because of what I was putting him through. And worried, so worried about how he was doing and whether or not he was going to recover from this. Worried about what I had done to him. What my disease had done to him. Worried about how maybe I will only just make other people who want to be with me broken, too. Meanwhile, he was already doing better but people decided it would be best if they didn’t mention to me that my boyfriend of two years about whom I was terrified was improving. Don’t tell Courtney that he’s out of the hospital, then she’ll want to (gasp!) TALK TO HER BOYFRIEND. Better to let me sit. Alone. In the dark. In my room. Waiting for someone to contact me. Wondering if I would be able to actually feel my heart slow down if I slit my wrists or if I would simply fall into a sleep and not wake up. No matter, it would be better for poor weak Spencer. I didn’t HAVE anyone to take me to the doctor, but instead had to take a cab with a teacher I barely knew at 4 in the morning to be probed by only German-speaking psychiatrists. To be asked to pee in a cup and then wait in someone’s office holding a non-lidded sample of my urine while people wandered around muttering to themselves. To be told that plans were being made for me to come back to the States because depressed people don’t DESERVE to live their lives and experience what they can and try to make the most of the happiness they do find. Why, because that would be a liability, of course. And then my ex-boyfriend’s response to this is, well I ACTUALLY left you in the middle of a crisis because I had been unhappy for a long time and it just occurred to me suddenly that I didn’t want this anymore. ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE YOURSELF LOOK LIKE AN AWFUL PERSON? So, what you’re saying is that it wasn’t really that you just couldn’t handle it anymore and your brain stopped functioning, but rather you had this epiphany that wasn’t time sensitive and you were just too cruel or selfish or idiotic to give me maybe a week after my two psych ward stays and however many hours staring out of a window or at my box of helping hands razor blades before you ditched me. Classy. Well it seems that Frances is right. I am very bitter. And while it wasn’t my intention the first time to “ruin someone’s day” I certainly fucking hope this ruins yours. And continues to ruin them long into the future. I hope that this stays with you. Because believe me, you deserve it.

04.09.08, 05:37 AM

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/31273865/pooh-whispered-piglet

I’m sort of in a bad place about humanity right now. I had been hoping that my misanthropy would gradually transform into enthusiasm for everyone and everything. I’m not sure why I thought this might happen as it hasn’t for the past 2 decades. Instead I feel sort of generally disappointed with people. This disappointment then makes me wonder what I do that makes people want to give up on humanity and the whole thing just ends with me thinking that people are awful, I am awful, everyone is awful. Such optimism! Blocking group drama that is not my own but hit close to home just came up. I may or may not have handled it appropriately. As of right now, I think I did, but who knows how I’ll feel about it in retrospect. I guess I just want to feel safe with people and want people to feel safe with others and me and it just doesn’t seem to be going my way these days. There are, however, some notable exceptions that shouldn’t be overlooked. But being the general Negative Nancy that I am, the Sams and Mandys and Lenas and Lauras of my world get drowned out by the rest. The thing that really makes me worried and paranoid and scared is that when I voice my protest, people always seem so…confused as to what I’m trying to say? Or outraged that I called them out for something. Like I was being unreasonable and/or overreacting. Does this mean that they really don’t want or expect the same level of consideration from their friends as I want and expect from mine? Are there people who really are cool with just having a bunch of friends they party with and laugh with and play video games with but upon whom they can’t rely? I just don’t understand. I feel like it comes up for everyone at some point and yet as long as it’s not their turn to be overlooked or mistreated, they’re fine with it happening. As long as they aren’t being left out when everyone goes to the bar or not told when everyone goes to dinner, then it’s not important. It makes me want to shake people and scream THIS HAS HAPPENED TO YOU BEFORE HOW HAVE YOU ALREADY FORGOTTEN??? Especially since I’ve pointed out inconsideration on behalf of people I don’t really give a shit about. I just feel like in the past weeks I’ve whispered “Pooh…?” to a lot of people, and have been made sure of very few. The thing is, ultimately it doesn’t matter if I’m being self-righteous about something that’s none of my business (as Frances would argue). Because I am being who I am. I am thinking how I think. And, being someone who doesn’t believe in free will, I’m stuck with this person and these thoughts. And if they’re outside the norm, what does that mean for me finding meaningful friendships that I can find fulfilling? This is a struggle and a nagging worry I’ve had at least since middle school, and it always seems to come back up again. You are who you are and I think who I am may mean that I’m fucked.

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/14320.html

same question, different perspectives.

• Jul. 4th, 2008 at 8:13 PM

Me: This is going to hurt a lot, isn't it.

Lena: What? You cut yourself for fun, Courtney Kennedy. You'll be fine.

Me: This is going to hurt a lot, isn't it.

Lars (tattoo artist): Yes.

Me: ...

Lars: Are you SURE you want the piercing on your tit?

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/4706.html

8:14:56 AM Courtney Kennedy: ok listen to my night

8:15:06 AM Courtney Kennedy: Tara came over around 11

8:15:09 AM Courtney Kennedy: and while she was on her way

8:15:18 AM Courtney Kennedy: Tobit texted me and was like, I'm sorry. I'm wasted.

8:15:25 AM Courtney Kennedy: which was odd, given that it was only 10

8:15:26 AM Courtney Kennedy: barely

8:15:27 AM Courtney Kennedy: if that

8:15:37 AM Courtney Kennedy: so then I called him and tried to figure out where he was

8:15:39 AM Courtney Kennedy: but couldn't

8:15:42 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he was soooo drunk

8:15:47 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then he put his friend on the phone

8:15:51 AM Courtney Kennedy: who was even MORE drunk

8:15:54 AM Courtney Kennedy: but spoke less English

8:16:00 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he proceeded to talk at me for like 10 minutes

8:16:14 AM Courtney Kennedy: and at the end I still had no fucking clue what he was talking about and had used all of my minutes

8:16:22 AM strublights: :(

8:16:27 AM Courtney Kennedy: so then I told Tobit to text or call if he was going out later

8:16:43 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then Tara arrived and we went out to this bar called Ipunkt

8:16:48 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I was told that one could dance there

8:16:56 AM Courtney Kennedy: but no one was dancing and they were playing awful english music

8:16:58 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I ordered a beer

8:17:01 AM Courtney Kennedy: and Tara had a drink

8:17:05 AM Courtney Kennedy: she finished hers and we left

8:17:12 AM Courtney Kennedy: but the bouncer person was like, you have to finish that inside

8:17:19 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I had to gulp down my beer really fast

8:17:22 AM Courtney Kennedy: buzzed.

8:17:26 AM Courtney Kennedy: also I was carded on the way in

8:17:30 AM Courtney Kennedy: they weren't sure I was 18?

8:17:40 AM Courtney Kennedy: anyway so then we leave

8:17:42 AM Courtney Kennedy: to go to tangente

8:17:54 AM Courtney Kennedy: but on the way I decide we should stop by villa for a cocktail

8:18:02 AM Courtney Kennedy: they are only 4 bucks there

8:18:11 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I had a piña colada

8:18:17 AM Courtney Kennedy: and Tara had something

8:18:23 AM Courtney Kennedy: she had also had vodka before she arrived

8:18:25 AM Courtney Kennedy: so she was drunk

8:18:27 AM Courtney Kennedy: at this point

8:18:32 AM Courtney Kennedy: finished our drinks

8:18:36 AM Courtney Kennedy: paid and left

8:18:40 AM Courtney Kennedy: tipsy.

8:18:50 AM Courtney Kennedy: made our way to tangente, which turned out to be closed

8:19:03 AM Courtney Kennedy: so we decided to go to a club on the other side of Hauptstraße

8:19:06 AM Courtney Kennedy: we get there and it's packed

8:19:09 AM Courtney Kennedy: we have to wait to get in

8:19:13 AM Courtney Kennedy: but can go to the bar while we wait

8:19:17 AM Courtney Kennedy: I get a mojito

8:19:18 AM Courtney Kennedy: drunk.

8:19:30 AM Courtney Kennedy: then I go to the bathroom in the men's bathroom

8:19:43 AM Courtney Kennedy: and some guy keeps knocking on the door and they are all laughing blah blah blah

8:19:49 AM Courtney Kennedy: so then we decide we don't want to wait anymore

8:19:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: and Tara will just get food

8:19:56 AM Courtney Kennedy: so she goes to get Dönner

8:20:11 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I decide that I don't want to sleep alone so I'm going to go wake up Tobit

8:20:23 AM Courtney Kennedy: give her my keys, and stumble all the fucking way over the bridge

8:20:28 AM strublights: so you are drunk, at this point?

8:20:30 AM Courtney Kennedy: yes

8:20:32 AM Courtney Kennedy: very.

8:20:39 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I wake up one extremely grumpy tobit

8:20:46 AM Courtney Kennedy: hahaha and crawl up the stairs

8:20:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he grabs a bucket because he thinks I might get sick

8:20:57 AM Courtney Kennedy: and somehow I manage to make it into bed

8:21:14 AM Courtney Kennedy: 10 minutes later I decide that it's too hot and take off my shirt and pass back out

8:21:26 AM Courtney Kennedy: Tobit notices and groans and is like, omg pleaaase put a shirt on

8:21:35 AM Courtney Kennedy: I cannot sleep with a shirtless girl in my bed

8:21:40 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I sort of fall out of the bed

8:21:43 AM Courtney Kennedy: and am looking around

8:21:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then decide that the floor is the most comfortable thing in existence

8:21:54 AM Courtney Kennedy: and just lie down

8:22:20 AM Courtney Kennedy: but then I think, Tobit is going to be weird about this, I can deal with this. I'm just going to suck it up and go be uncomfortable and cold in my apartment

8:22:29 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I put my dress and stalkings back on

8:22:32 AM Courtney Kennedy: and grab my wallet

8:22:33 AM Courtney Kennedy: and shoes

8:22:37 AM Courtney Kennedy: and open the door

8:22:48 AM Courtney Kennedy: he actually hears this and is like what the fuck where are you going?

8:22:51 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I slur something

8:23:02 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then crawl down the hall and down the stairs

8:23:08 AM Courtney Kennedy: he comes after me and turns on the light

8:23:18 AM Courtney Kennedy: only THEN do I realize that hahaha I fucking forgot my glasses and can't see SHIT

8:23:19 AM strublights: ahahahaha this is hilarious in general

8:23:41 AM strublights: the idea of you drunkenly stumbling somewhere is appealing, terrifying, and makes me feel much better about myself in general

8:23:50 AM Courtney Kennedy: hahaha

8:23:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: I was SO DRUNK

8:23:56 AM Courtney Kennedy: oh wait

8:23:58 AM Courtney Kennedy: at the food place

8:24:05 AM Courtney Kennedy: I was so drunk and these guys started talking to us in english

8:24:18 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I was like I can't speak English

8:24:24 AM Courtney Kennedy: and they were like we can hear your north american accent!

8:24:33 AM strublights: hahahahahahaha

8:24:36 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I went outside and was babbling on about how I love foreign languages

8:24:37 AM strublights: i can't speak english

8:24:39 AM strublights: generally lol

8:24:42 AM strublights: this is AWESOME courtney

8:24:43 AM Courtney Kennedy: and started speaking russian

8:24:49 AM Courtney Kennedy: I said that in German though!

8:24:53 AM strublights: you were SO THE STEREOTYPICAL DRUNK GIRL

8:24:57 AM strublights: THAT IS AWESOME

8:25:07 AM Courtney Kennedy: hahaha I was so silly it was fantastic

8:25:22 AM Courtney Kennedy: ok so Tobit just picks me up and throws me over his shoulder and carries me back upstairs

8:25:26 AM Courtney Kennedy: but I'm determined to go home

8:25:36 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I tell him that this isn't going to work out if he's going to be weird about it

8:25:46 AM Courtney Kennedy: and that I'm just going to have to find a nice gay german boy

8:25:59 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I grab my glasses and immediately stumble down the stairs again and make it outside

8:26:06 AM Courtney Kennedy: so then I am walking along the road

8:26:10 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he calls and asks me where I am

8:26:17 AM Courtney Kennedy: "I'm on...that street...where you live.."

8:26:21 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he is like WAIT THERE

8:26:25 AM Courtney Kennedy: I keep walking, of course

8:26:28 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he shows up with his bike

8:26:32 AM Courtney Kennedy: determined to either walk me home

8:26:36 AM Courtney Kennedy: or bring me back to his room

8:27:11 AM Courtney Kennedy: anyway

8:27:20 AM Courtney Kennedy: so then we run into his friend Andreas

8:27:28 AM Courtney Kennedy: who is SO MUCH MORE DRUNK than me

8:27:37 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he and I sort of are being drunk and ridiculous together

8:27:45 AM Courtney Kennedy: I keep sliding down to sit on the sidewalk, even though it's raining outside and the ground is wet

8:27:55 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I say something about his english being as bad as my german and he leaves

8:28:02 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I'm determined that I'm going home by myself

8:28:07 AM Courtney Kennedy: and Tobit is determined that I'm not

8:28:14 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then finally I start to be worn down

8:28:18 AM Courtney Kennedy: and turn to go back to his room

8:28:20 AM Courtney Kennedy: but THEN

8:28:27 AM Courtney Kennedy: he asks, "so what is Spencer like for a boy?"

8:28:30 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I ask what do you mean?

8:28:32 AM strublights: ...

8:28:34 AM strublights: hahaha

8:28:45 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he's like, "I'm starting to understand you a bit more. And I think that it must be hard to be your boyfriend."

8:28:46 AM Courtney Kennedy: ....

8:28:50 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I get REALLY upset

8:28:58 AM Courtney Kennedy: and am like, yeah he thinks so, too

8:29:04 AM Courtney Kennedy: and turn around and run in the opposite direction

8:29:08 AM Courtney Kennedy: and he calls me on the phone

8:29:11 AM Courtney Kennedy: but I ignore it

8:29:14 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I make it across the bridge

8:29:37 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I'm walking and upset and this drunk guy sees me and says something incomprehensible

8:29:45 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I look up and he looks at me and asks

8:29:51 AM Courtney Kennedy: "arbeitest du?"

8:29:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: ....

8:29:57 AM strublights: what does that mean?

8:29:59 AM strublights: do you work?

8:30:02 AM Courtney Kennedy: are you working

8:30:06 AM strublights: oh

8:30:07 AM strublights: OH

8:30:09 AM strublights: wtf

8:30:09 AM strublights: wow

8:30:11 AM Courtney Kennedy: yes.

8:30:11 AM strublights: what?

8:30:14 AM strublights: wow

8:30:14 AM strublights: that's awful

8:30:15 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I ignore him and keep walking

8:30:23 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I make it to Hauptstraße

8:30:28 AM Courtney Kennedy: and walk past this group of people

8:30:31 AM Courtney Kennedy: around our age

8:30:42 AM Courtney Kennedy: and one of them nods toward me and is like, oh there's a schlampe

8:30:44 AM Courtney Kennedy: schlampe = whore

8:30:48 AM strublights: ummm

8:30:50 AM strublights: wow

8:30:51 AM strublights: that's

8:30:52 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then they start talking about it in spanish

8:30:53 AM strublights: uncalled-for

8:30:55 AM strublights: HAHAHA

8:30:56 AM strublights: TARDS

8:30:57 AM Courtney Kennedy: so I say "vete a mierda!"

8:31:00 AM Courtney Kennedy: and they start laughing

8:31:04 AM strublights: DON'T THEY KNOW ALL AMERICANS KNOW SPANISH

8:31:04 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I finally make it home

8:31:09 AM Courtney Kennedy: hahahaha

8:31:14 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I don't have my keys!

8:31:16 AM Courtney Kennedy: and it's 4 am!

8:31:24 AM Courtney Kennedy: and I squeeze myself through the bars on the gate

8:31:32 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then bang on the door for a long time until tara opens it

8:31:45 AM Courtney Kennedy: and then I take a shitty ass blanket and go sleep on the couch in the kitchen

8:32:30 AM Courtney Kennedy: 3 hours later I wake up, cold, uncomfortable, not rested, completely unable to fall back asleep, and realizing that I should have just stayed at Tobit's. and also that I have giant blister on my foot from my heels.

Like Polishing Firewood

• Feb. 29th, 2008 at 1:50 PM

I made it to my Patient Consult appointment. I don't even know what to say. Nothing lighthearted. I have to change my medication, which is good. EXCEPT. I have to go off my current medz first. For several weeks. For those of you who have seen me on day 3 of no medz, this is terrifying. The doctor asked me what support system I had here in Germany....Umm, I just got here? I don't have friends yet? Monday is my appointment with my actual psychiatrist. We'll see how it goes.

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/2078.html

Finally. Peter Burgard and I are becoming chums. Slowly but surely. (Naturally I gravitated toward the biggest asshole in the group). Today he insisted that I'm a misanthrope (true) in response to my displeasure about his pineapple and homeless person joke. Really, Pay-tor. Just because I don't like other people, doesn't mean I want to mock the homeless, you soulless bastard. Dan was with us at the time and giggled with delight in his typical fey way. His body always does a little shimmy that constantly surprises me given his conservative politics. This is the same Dan who, having already consumed EIGHT BEERS in ONE HOUR, stumbled back to us and angrily slash sloppily declared that "those damn Turks" didn't have their shop open for him to purchase more. Really. He said that. In GERMANY.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9970152)

Courtney Kennedy writes...

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/42830108/and-it-really-makes-me-wonder-if-i-ever-gave-a-fuck

have no idea when one of my exams is…should be more concerned about this than I currently am given that I’m leaving on Wednesday and know absolutely nothing about this class. hmmm….maybe they’ll just do me this solid?

almost time to go back to the States! very curious about Seattle. I asked my dad if I could have a kitten. he sighed. I think I can go ahead and take that as an unequivocal yes.

first business of order: bookstore. desperate desperate desperate. quickly followed by a huge burger cooked MEDIUM RARE and unlimited refills on drink of my choice.

now back to lilo and stitch.

07.19.08, 02:01 AM

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/42830193/but-god-whod-want-to-be-such-an-asshole

but God who'd want to be such an asshole?

Courtney Kennedy: if God were just, I'd be dead.

Lena Chen: uhhh...no, Kennedy. if God were just, you'd be HAPPY.

Courtney Kennedy: semantics...

07.19.08, 11:38 AM

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9992758)

"the majority of my time here thus far has been spent in an un-air-conditioned dorm room with sometimes-suicidal Courtney Kennedy. Courtney's roommates are probably wondering when the hell I’m going to leave."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#9995224)

"There was one morning when I woke up crying in Patrick Hamm's bed. It wasn’t long after I’d come back from seeing Courtney Kennedy in Germany. She was doing fine when I got there, meaning she wasn’t 1) institutionalized or 2) suicidal, which were both improvements from the previous week."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#10005950)

"Living seems so absurd. so futile."

http://likepolishingfirewood.tumblr.com

http://likepolishingfirewood.tumblr.com/post/43470726/in-support-of-you-shutting-the-fuck-up

"If I were to speak on a panel open to Harvard students about my depression,...What if I just told an anecdote in section about swapping suicide jokes with my friends to lessen the pain?"

And Courtney Kennedy also appears to have the same bloated sense of entitlement as Lena...

http://likepolishingfirewood.tumblr.com/post/43504578/dear-dad-why-is-there-no-food-in-this-house-of

"dear dad,

why is there no food in this house of yours? you are, quite frankly, too old to be playing the bachelor. please start feeding yourself non-frozen food. I was appalled to come home to your lovely apartment only to discover that despite having lived here for nearly a year, you have no vegetable oil, no eggs, no seasonings of any kind, no flour, no sugar, no butter, no vanilla extract, and nothing resembling a fresh vegetable. I’m pretty sure this means you can no longer berate me for not exercising. at least I feed myself food that wasn’t cooked in the microwave.

p.s. stop judging me for smoking with those little eyes"

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/15501.html

If I were thinking clearly?

July 21st, 2008 at 1:00 AM

If I were thinking clearly, Leonard, I would tell you that I wrestle. alone. in the dark. in the deep dark. and that only I can know.

she'll kill herself. she'll kill herself over something that doesn't seem to matter.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#10032311)

#

Courtney Kennedy in Seattle

Courtney Kennedy: my mom just fucking hung up on me

Lena Chen: why?

Courtney Kennedy: because I rented a cello without asking her permission, I think. hard to say.

Lena Chen: oh.

Courtney Kennedy: anyway, she's pissed. she isn't adjusting well to my adulthood.

Gotta wonder...who has the more bloated sense of spoiled entitlement, Courtney Kennedy or Lena Chen?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#10032458)

http://likepolishingfirewood.tumblr.com/post/44886999/so-it-begins

So it begins.

this hour in “Gosh, Mom. You Sure Are Psychotic!” :

mom: See Courtney! This is the perfect example of how little respect you have for me!

Courtney Kennedy: What is?

mom: Just look at your room. It’s a mess. Clothes on the floor. You KNOW how much this drives me crazy and you don’t care because you don’t respect me.

Courtney Kennedy: You’re irrational

mom: But I don’t know why I would expect you to respect me when you don’t respect yourself. You don’t believe in anything.

Courtney Kennedy: I have the upmost esteem for myself. And you don’t do things I wish you would do but I don’t conclude that you don’t respect me.

mom: like WHAT?

Courtney Kennedy: Well talk to me about certain things I’m currently thinking about or your family or let me explain my tattoo to you, etc.

mom: I’m not your therapist, Courtney Kennedy!

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#10062408)

http://thechicktionary.com/post/48549400/nothing-like-an-old-email-from-my-sex-positive

From: Courtney Kennedy

To: Lena Chen

Date: Thu, Jul 17, 2008 at 6:05 AM

Subject: hey, you wanna…

start an atheistic anti-true love revolution club on campus? called the Order of the Goddess?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invisible_Pink_Unicorn

http://www.palmyria.co.uk/humour/ipu.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flying_Spaghetti_Monster

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE????

WE NEED TO RAISE AWARENESS. Religion is dangerous and awful and so is this “movement.” We need something to counter this. DESPERATELY. I’m becoming more and more convinced that we need to be actively converting people to the side of atheism. Let’s go forth and proselytize!

Also I’ve already started packing. Woo hoo! And I just started crying because I really have accepted that Sascha is gone.

Also you had better say yes to this. It’s not really a request.

We can have a whole pantheon consisting of the flying spaghetti monster, the invisible pink unicorn, and Bertrand Russell’s teapot. And we can have teas! And discussions with religious groups on campus. And promote sexual promiscuity!

Also why are you never online? Do you hate me?

Sounds like Courtney Kennedy's meds are whacking her brain.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&forum_id=2#10125379)