Saturday, June 22, 2002
dum dee dum dum dum dum...

happy birfday, prince wills. [aside: he's 20 now, that makes him fair game. yippee.]

in unrelated coolness - look what i made today:

pretty colors.

i have a big long list of things to do at home tomorrow, boring things. won't you call me and tell me you love me?
cheers, k.


love, krissa .... 7:15 AM ... link!

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Friday, June 21, 2002
one small step for petit hiboux...

hey look! look! i'm finally in google! there's my name, look!
i have arrived!
man, this means that people curiously searching for my presence on the web will find this page... so i'm going to have to stop badmouthing former friends and ex-boyfriends... okay, okay, not like i ever do that. i'll leave the web-page badmouthing for
someone else*.

but isn't that exciting? in other exciting news:
1. I'm going to the beach on sunday
2. seastreet did quite well in his interview and he glowed about it for a while.

in related sad, g is leaving our posh little flat heaven for two weeks to go all the way to oregon.
sniff. i will be lonely.

hey, I'm on google! yeahhh, ME!
cheers, and sorry for the absolute frivolty of this post.
k

*yeah, you see it, scroll down to the april 29th entry. That's me she's trash-talking. also, on january 30th. tee hee.

love, krissa .... 10:21 PM ... link!

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a small victory for me.

you know, i've spent a lot of time telling myself this One Thing, this statement that i wanted to badly to come true, and you know what? it's true: I really am glad I'm single. Amazing, huh? G and I were talking tonight, rehashing the traumas and rollercoaster highs of our serious relationships, her peter and my alex (both redheads, strange) and I realized something. I am happy, and I'm independent, and I don't feel obligated or worried or anxiously frittering about my Future With Someone. And you know what? this is one of the last few years in my life that really are, and can be, devoted totally to me. Later on, down the line, i will want to share my life with someone. and i will want to have children, and the responsibility of that life. And i look forward to it. But now, now is just mine. and that feels really good.
and the funniest thing about this little seemingly-simplistic revelation is that it's come hand-in-hand with the realization that i could finally be ready to try that whole love thing out again. i would no longer be doing it because it was purposefully doomed, or because there was no chance of falling in love, or because i was lonely. i'd be ready, to be an adult about it, and be happy with someone else, because i'm happy with myself.
and then i realized, the true marker, really, the saffron in the cream here: but i don't need to. and that's what makes the realization so much more satisfying - i could be capable of this, something i haven't really wanted to venture into since 1999, and i'd be okay, and it'd be great - but i don't need to.
so, yes. this was far more self-revelatory than necessary, and probably only remotely interesting to the girls that read this. but still. i'm happy being single. and this time, contrary to all the times i've said it in the past three years, i really mean it.
how nice.
and now, just to make you laugh after all that touchy-feely crap: a picture of josh dancing with genevieve while compensating for the height difference by being on his knees -

but you've been cut off at the knees! - oh, just a flesh wound. don't stop the tango!

i heart all of you. even the curmodgeonly ones.


love, krissa .... 10:32 AM ... link!

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Thursday, June 20, 2002
Hello, my name is Coffee Face.

Proof of how tired I am: two hours ago, I opened up the sweet-smelling can of Bustelo coffee to make some life-saving java. So, there I stand, lid open and spoon in can to make coffee, the way everyone makes coffee.
I don't know where my head went in the four seconds in between lifting the spoon out of the can and what happend next.
here's what i did.
i put it in my mouth.
in case you can't imagine, it was disgusting.
ed, the mail guy, was watching me, and positively lost his shit at the look on my face.
don't believe the hype about me. for all my airs, i am such a moron.

love,
coffee face.


love, krissa .... 7:28 PM ... link!

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Wednesday, June 19, 2002
three cheers for le bebe!

matthieu is now an uncle! see?

i think i can see the brajot nose already.

petit sebastien christian was born (well, induced) a few days ago to carrine, who i'm sure is quite glad to have sprung the child by now, being a few weeks overdue.
everyone congratulate matthieu! what an adorable little nephew.
with all this bebe talk, well, i can't help it. the ovaries are kickin'. don't worry folks, it'll be a couple of years yet. one hopes. although, i have a wee confession: i've started checking for wedding rings on the fingers of cute elevator companions here at work. sigh.
cheers, k.


love, krissa .... 11:09 PM ... link!

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Tuesday, June 18, 2002
a cat named taliban

g and i went walking today, to the triboro bridge park. on our way back, we stopped at this little dive of an outdoor bar, called steve's place. we never met steve, but we met taliban.
steve's place isn't even really a bar - it's a glorified tent patio, open to the street, on hoyt avenue with a few tables outside and a television. one section is "indoors" - that's where, presumably, steve or a reasonable facsimile thereof sells his drinks to his thirsty patrons. there are always a smattering of old greek men that hang out there, playing backgammon and getting defensive about their favored teams for whatever sport is on the television. the television is older than i am. i've never seen a woman at steve's place.
we decide to have a coke and brave the social norms that dictate the all-male presence inside the tented patio. I sit down with my frosty can, and g meanders her way to the bathroom (later to report the expected dismal atmosphere in the toilet). A cat, really a kitten, wanders over to my feet and looks up at me. i know instinctively she's female. she's a gray tabby, those common street cats, with trust-me blue eyes. when i lived in africa, there were always stray cats wandering around. while i know it's inhumane, it's a sight that reminds me of my childhood and i'm always strangely comforted by strays in outdoor restaurants, hanging under cars, digging through the trash - you see my point.
I pull the kitten on top of the table and she immediately starts playing with my backpack, tugging at the strings and pawing at my keys which dangle from a climber's hook. when g returns, we take turns playing with her. our favorite hilarity is when she gets huffy over the empty umbrella hole in the center of the plastic table - you can drive her crazy by sticking your fingers up through the hole and making her reach her whole arm down in there, trying to snag your finger.
eventually, thanks to our peals of hysterical laughter at the cat's antics, his pseudo-owner (or just some guy pretending it's his cat so he can talk to girls) comes over, and while he lets the cat to positively shred a paper napkin that he dangles above her head, we talk.
what's the cat's name? i ask.
tali, he says. taliban.
i didn't ask. it's better that way.

so without further ado, meet taliban, the cat:

there she is, trying to get g's sunglasses through the hole.

and here's gen, and the coke, and taliban:

doesn't she look sexy? not the cat, genevieve. duh.

and oh, here's me and gen at the bridge, and so now you can see my hair, short:

the hottest chicks in astoria.
so next time you come see me, (and you and you and you too), remind me to take you on a walk. we'll go watch the sun set over the triboro bridge, and on the way back we'll stop at steve's place, have a coke, and play with a terrorist cat.
cheers,
k.


love, krissa .... 6:50 AM ... link!

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Monday, June 17, 2002
soo lazy.

hello, friends. sorry for my reticence of late in the posting arena. sometimes, Life is just there, and you can't really be bothered to sit down and write anything. That, or else: that I simply spend all day working and when I get home at night, after changing into schleppy jeans and running a variety of errands, all I really want to do is sit down and watch some seinfeld with genevieve and knit.
Yes, boys and girls, there has been a solution to petithiboux raging chain-smoking habit. She knits. Pink things. Very pretty.
Also, there is a surprise, for all of you that haven't found out yet - le petithiboux's got a brand new look. pictures coming tonight, perhaps.
what else - went home to RI this weekend with genie. Hung with my parents. Talked to my dad on Friday night for three hours - about nothing catastrophic - we were just enjoying a discussion. Eureka.
I'm missing many of you. Erin, I miss you. Matthieu, I miss you and is the baby born yet? Macnab, fucking call me, I miss you. Payan, how's Kenya and I miss you. Marnix, well, you know.
In happy news for a certain C-rod, I have managed to get him hired as a freelance copy editor at the magazine, starting with three days next week. I am a cool friend, and deserving of adoration. And he has obliged.
Spending more time with Chris "the coyote" Wiley, which is oodles of fun, because that man is an endless source of amusement. He can do the best french accent you've ever heard from a non-frenchman. And he's terrible at scrabble.
Also - genie, my congenial flatmate, has chosen to leave me for two weeks - she's going home to portland on saturday and leaving me to waste away from loneliness. Luckily, several friends, including wiley coyote, have taken it upon themselves to crash at the apartment during the week to keep me company.
and bethie gets home next monday! yay. we all miss her.
anyway, see? i can update! really!
more interesting photos at a later date. promise.
cheers,
k spice.


love, krissa .... 10:17 PM ... link!

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