Friday, January 03, 2003
tut tut, what would freud say?

situation: you think you've gotten over someone.

posit: you still inadvertently picture having sex with them at random moments in your day.

proved: you're not over them.



love, krissa .... 11:07 PM ... link!

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let's take a trip together.

well, well. isn't it nice when the world pretends it's giving you something for free? like, say, airline miles?

after my heady jaunt to sunny rio de janeiro, brasil, in march, i will have a whopping 25 thousand miles under my belt ... enough for a US ticket.

sell your city to me. make me want to come visit*. make sure there are plenty of monkeys to be seen, and strawberry ice cream to be had, or possibly even horses to be ridden across wide open plains.

* offer excludes boston, DC, or ugly places like ithaca. peeps, i can get there by train.


love, krissa .... 10:47 PM ... link!

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don't be jealous of my superpowers.

i have prophetic dreams. no, really, i do. ask erin. i can cure most minor diseases with my frosted spice cake. and i can chop onions without crying. and i can beat all of you at scrabble. blindfolded.


love, krissa .... 7:37 PM ... link!

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Tuesday, December 31, 2002
an exercise in imaginative futility.

20 useless, impossible, or completely facetious resolutions for 2003:

1. i will lose 15 pounds by adhering strictly to a diet of celery and crab juice.

2. i will collapse from malnutrition.

3. i will then lose 15 pounds on a more sensible plan of diet and exercise.

4. i will write an entire novel from the perspective of a broken 60 watt lightbulb.

5. i will fall in love with the right guy.

6. barring that, i will have flippant casual sex with many anonymous partners.

7. or, i will dabble in the cult of sappho*.

8. i will go to bed early, wake up early, and eat healthy.

9. but secretly, i will go mad.

10. i will apply to law school.

11. i will wear more red lipstick.

12. i will get a pet. i will love it. this will alleviate momentarily the resounding chimes of my biological clock.

13. i will become known as a femme fatale. mainly by killing people.

14. or just batting my eyelashes murderously at them, causing them to drop dead from unknown causes.

15. i will be given a sack of money by a complete stranger one day.

16. i will watch less television. especially friends. friends is evil.

17. i will take better care of my CDs. i.e., not using them as coasters for my beer.

18. i will finishing knitting this goddamned scarf.

19. never mind the casual sex, i will find the right guy if i have to buy him.

20. i will make a comprehensive list of all those little things i always say i'm going to do. like, go to the whitney, or ride the roosevelt island cable car, or explore the north end of central park, or buy dinner for a total stranger, or learn to paint, or organize my bookshelves. and this year will do them. one a week. until i'm done.

what are your useless, impossible, or facetious new years resolutions?

*cult of sappho: lesbians, you ignoramus.





love, krissa .... 10:15 PM ... link!

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Monday, December 30, 2002
and the crushworthy award goes to...

okay, i've decided to turn things up a notch around here. if
jason "moustache" royal has a monthly crush, so will i*.

to make up for the past few months where i have suffered my crushes alone, i will reveal not only january's internet crush-of-the-moment, but also november and december crush objects-of-internet-desire.

november: monkey. known to the rest of the world as matt, he's my monkey.

december: the fantastic sarah brown. you know why? because she's sarah brown and you're not.

january 2003: jack saturn. even though he's a complete internet pop star and all the little kiddies are screaming for a piece, something about that whole west-coast-lanky-boy bleeding-heart-romantic thing really revs this engine. plus, the moustache.


*n.b. if you are now, or in the future, ever listed as my internet crush, heed the following: i will not sleep with you, i will not even cyber with you, and i will not have your babies, internet or otherwise. except sarah b. because then we could, like, charge admission to broadcast it on the internet and get filthy, filthy rich. oh yes.



love, krissa .... 9:30 PM ... link!

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ghosts of innocence past.

rifling through some old hi-8 tapes at the house, i made a little discovery. i found a memory, coded onto shiny film, only two minutes long, but i watched it about seven times. it's dated august 31st, 1996, and it's my sweet sixteen party. nairobi, kenya. the living room is dim, with young kids dancing cheek to cheek. whoever is holding the camcorder (perry? tanja?) sweeps the room and then settles on me, dancing with s, my boyfriend at the time. the song is wet wet wet's 'love is all around'. it was our song, oh yes. it was the mid-nineties, and i was a teenager in love.

s was my first everything, really. he was slender, and handsome in a very italian way. his lilting accent and his loping walk broke my heart. we were crazy about each other, and s was just crazy. we were two beautiful kids who thought we knew what love was. we thought love meant three hour phone calls, ice cream shared at the cafe, lying on grassy fields staring into each other's eyes, being jealous of everyone else's advances. you know what kind of couple we were.

a week after that charming slow dance together, i broke up with him. our breakup was, necessarily, messy. i was angry at all his theatrics, and had feelings for someone else - someone even more emotionally disastrous. i was tired of s's all-encompassing drama. his tears, his tirades, his bi-polar cries for attention. i tried to break up with him face-to-face. it didn't work. his flashing blue eyes went from angry to teary to contemptuous and back again. i relented, kissing those kissable italian lips. then i got home, and called to say i'd been right the first time. there were harsh words, letters sent back, picture frames smashed. different nightclubs became territorial, "his" or "hers". friends caught in the divide were lost, to one side or another. it was all very high school.

but as i watch the grainy video footage of us dancing, i start to cry. how perfectly his arm slipped around my waist - how coordinated were our heights that my cheek rested on his shoulder, how my eyes turned to look into his and smile. how s used to tilt his head to look at me, the mysterious charming madness that was blessing and bane combined. how i loved him!

i hear he lives in dublin. i hear he's as charismatic and impetuous as ever. i hear he hasn't changed one bit. and then i look at my life, and how much i've changed. how innocent was that girl, at her sweet sixteen party. i am no longer innocent, really. i am also no longer naive - there's that pesky trade-off. i don't fall in love at the drop of a hat anymore, although i still want to. i don't trust pretty boys blindly anymore. i don't tell all my little secrets to anyone who asks - they have to earn them.

so i'm tough. so i'm strong. so i'm a little wary. bully for me. but i'll tell you what i'll never be again - that smiling, care-free girl with long curly hair and a button nose, celebrating her sweet sixteen. the prettiest girl in the room, dancing cheek-to-cheek with the prettiest boy.

so much for fairy tales.




love, krissa .... 7:14 PM ... link!

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