Freckled Freedom

First Name analysis for  Kourtney Though you have had female and male lives, your name tells that your most recent past lives were predominantly male. The karma of your name is of a group karma, one brought on by conditions imposed rather than conditions you created. Your name reveals that in your immediate past life you lived communally, where each shared and helped, never having to survive alone. There was time to pay attention to one task at a time. Late in life, this situation changed through circumstances beyond your control. The loss of a partner or mate created a loss of a harmonious life, as you were not properly equipped to survive alone. Your past life memories recall dependency upon a partner. You have need for balance in your life. There is, however, a tendency to become more aggressive than the situtation calls for, an over-compensation of past life experiences where you could not exercise the privilege of personal opinion. The insecurity of being alone is deeply in...

I facebook. I blog. I tweet. I shoot. I record. I edit.  All in all? I feel like a technological goddess. 

For just under a month now, my world has revolved around the prospect of a dream journey; The job of a lifetime; The STA World Traveler Internship (WTI) . This internship gives two individuals golden tickets to travel to over 16 countries around the world. Go ahead, gasp with me... I've been keeping tissues on hand to dab the drool that drips from the corners of my mouth every time I think about this opportunity. England. France. Switzerland. Italy. Czech Republic. Croatia. Austria. Slovenia. Germany. Nepal. China. Thailand. Australia. New Zealand. Argentina. Brazil.  In the words of Usher, "Ohhh maaah God." So let me begin by giving you a glimpse of the application process. On February 21st, myself along with over 1,000 other guys and gals submitted videos cramming in who we are and why we are made for this internship. We boosted about days of old, journeys ventured, skills acquired, and cobwebs consumed. Photos were flashed and flaunted and fluttery words summed up...

On my way to work the other day I was cut off by this ratty old car with Indiana license plates. I watched him swerve through the morning commute keeping old Korbin, my sleek and sexy '97 Camery, well away from him. We parted ways as his muffler screamed goodbye, and I made my way to another day of pouring wine and shaking those 'tinis (as in MARtinis, all heads out of the gutter). Six hours later, I headed for my commute home. The sun hovered over the Northern State Parkway and my mind felt at ease after giving in my two-weeks notice for my Amsterdam journey. Fiona Apple's "Extraordinary Machine" blared out of my sunroof and my always epic solo dance party raged on. I can't help it, the road just rolls out behind me Be kind to me, or treat me mean I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine... Just as I belted out loud and proud, I heard a grumble from my left as an old vehicle dodged out from behind me, just missing the side Korby....

Yes, that friend was Mark Twain... and I couldn't have said it better myself.  I'm not quite sure when exactly I misplaced my mind. I tend to go with the notion that I've scattered bits and pieces little by little, a bit of shedding if you will. I'd say it all started out with one crazy family and one hell of a mother.  And so, as it goes, I was born a Smith, a big-headed family with no tolerance for shit.  Honesty was my mother's policy, and quite frankly, her key to success. She believed in exposing me to the real elements of the world by bringing me to musicals that focused on sex, homosexuals, AIDS, poverty and deception. Through that, the only thing that truly fazed my 8-year-old was the butt Idina Menzel stuck out to the audience. I learned through my mother that there was no shame is taking a piss on top of a building if you really had to go. Our relationship has been built on a foundation of trust, truth, and big hair. She let me know from the get go:  ...

According to Urban Dictionary , Ginge rs are defined as:  A human, characterized by pale skin, freckles and bright red hair. "Gingers" are generally considered to be inferior to their more melanin-rich brethren, and thus deservingly discriminated against. Gingers are thought to have no souls. The condition, "gingervitis" is genetic and incurable.  Up until Freshman year of college, I had thought the term ginger referred to the pungent root used in cooking and traditional medicine; The fiery lump that the dining hall squished in with their " SUSHI " (or whatever it truly was); The flavoring Schweppes used in my ales to help soothe my stomach back in the days of plastic bags lining my locker because of daily morning sickness; The main squeeze on Nickelodeon's As Told By Ginger; The Spice Girl that got away.   Then in my first year at Binghamton University, I was deemed a "ginger." Naturally, I thought the world found me spicy... zesty... ful...

Well hello there. I am Kourtney, Kourtney T. Smith. Some call me KTS, others prefer Kourtney with a K.  Occasionally I'll get a ginger, red, big red, little red, or even a Colleen or two. Yesterday Stewart, a customer who asked me to make his iced tea "brown like [his] skin" said I was "the right kind of person."  Tonight a woman envying my hair deemed me "delicious" while Patrick Sparrow, with his black eye patch, claimed I was a "flower child." All in all... I am a 22-year-old-restless soul. "I am a child of the universe." And why am I writing? Well... I think the better question is, why are you reading? It's because I'm pretty damn interesting, isn't it?  This past May I came to the end of yet another chapter in my life: the college years.  I clicked my heels in the air, cum laude style, with my Theatre and English degrees and a large dunkin iced coffee in hand. And now where am I?  Behind a bar, being to...