Friday, September 05, 2003
bring me the love

see how it's a sunny day for the first time all week here in the big apple?

that's because the universe tends to align itself to my wishes.

and my wish today is to attend my media seats in a swanky skybox at the
US Open, complete with tasty catered treats and free alchohol.

and i always get what i want*.

*including andy roddick. so back off, mandy.

love, krissa .... 5:39 PM ... link!

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Thursday, September 04, 2003
busy signal

law school is something that's been pushed to the back of my mind for the past month. other than duly attending my mind-numbingly boring kaplan classes and warding off my father's nagging questions, the rest of my life has taken precedence over my plans for the future.

well, it's back. full-force attack of the law school admission hives. scribbled to-do lists get abandoned five minutes after their creation when faced with improved, longer and more frantic to-do lists. sharpies, overworked from all the scribbling, are committing suicide by leaping into my trashcan. there's so much to do, i need a palm pilot, or a drill sargent, to make sure i get it all done.

there's the law school forum this weekend, that fifth ring of hell where desks, frantic prospectives, bunches of paperwork, and nonchalant recruiters collide in an overstuffed, chandeliered banquet hall and do battle with each other.

there's a recommendation i have to write about myself because my law professor is too busy to write each student's rec himself, and thus requires that you draft your own inflated praise. needless to say, i'm on draft #435 and have yet to say anything remarkable about myself. does rampant egotism come over-the-counter these days, and where can i purchase a short-term supply?

there's the All-Important Personal Essay. also, currently in draft #i've-lost-count. do i write about my passion, the furthering of gay rights through legislation, even though it's so tres chic these days to be behind the gay movement that everyone and their chowpuppy will be writing that essay? or do i write the wrenchingly difficult bullshit that starts with "ooh look at me i'm such a cultural treasure i GREW UP IN AFRICA" and thus sell out my childhood and experiences to the highest bidder?

there's the money. oh, the money. the financial aid packets, the loan packets, the here's-a-knife-from-sally-mae-why-don't-you-off-yourself-and-sell-us-your-eternal-soul packets. there's the hundreds of dollars in application fees, $70 bucks a pop, plus the money i pay LSAC, and the money i pay Sarah Lawrence for transcript-mailing. my family and i are going to hemmorhage money over something that's going to give us all hernias.

there's the sheer organization TOWER of it all. the timeline of sending my application, my financial aid packet, my transcripts, my recommendations, and my LSAT scores all at the appropriate time. some before each other, some simultaneously, some after. WHERE IS THAT PALM PILOT?!

and there's the LSATs. in a month. again.

but really, what's at the heart of this is the fear. i know something those law schools, all nine of them, don't know. i know i belong there. wherever there ends up being, i know that's where i'm meant to be. i'd be good, i'd be damn good. i see this path - but will they? or will they only see the numbers, which for some of the schools on my list, will merit a flying leap to the trashcan before they glimpse the potential human being buried somewhere under slightly-above-average GPA and LSAT scores. will they see her? or will the numbers prevail?

have i bored you yet? well, good. take that boredom, add five doses of hysteria, followed by two valiums of "take this one day at a time" wisdom, fall asleep and wake up in a cold sweat. now you've approximated the next 2 months of my life.

but if this is what it takes to transform a plucky little owl into a formidable legal eagle, i say...

bring it ON.

love, krissa .... 8:55 PM ... link!

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Wednesday, September 03, 2003

Comment-Providing Company Which Inexplicably Shut Down Over my Birthday Weekend, Thus Making It Impossible For Anyone to Leave Me Witty Birthday-Related Effusive Compliments,



Dear Anyone Who Knows How To Make My Own Comment System of Any Kind and Would Like to Help Me Do That, Probably Because You Think I'm Hot/Funny/Worthy/A Goddess/Loaded:



love, krissa .... 10:04 PM ... link!

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Tuesday, September 02, 2003
ten things about my weekend you don't know unless you were there.

10. the best thing you can do on a friday afternoon is leave work at three pm and take a nap as soon as you get home. the only way to top that is to wake up, splash on some perfume and a pair of jaw-dropping high heels and hit the town.

9. i did everything on my birthday list [below]. and then some.

8. i spent the day before my birthday indulging in self-love. you know - the kind where you hit soho and absolutely don't deny yourself whatever it is you want to buy. victoria's secret, dean and deluca, unique pieces of jewelry from little boutiques... if i wanted it, i bought it. now that's self-love.

7. my gorgeous new bed kicks your bed's ass. without breaking a sweat.

6. the
shivlet and i had a pajama party on saturday night where we drank wine and ate pizza [a distinctly shiverous idiosyncracy], alternately kvetched and swooned about boys du jour, and actually watched return of the jedi. and then she gave me a birthday morning concert, rockstar that she is.

5. my cell phone rang 34 times on my birthday. hurrah!

4. i should stop underestimating my friends. sunday night's gathering, though smaller than many of the apartment's notorious past fetes, was still a chattery, libation-filled success. there was raunchy discussion as well as gossipy alma mater updates, standing-on-chair silliness as well as serious emotional discussions, margaritas as well as beer and cigarettes and late-night rambling. in short, my friends rock the casbah, full-out.

3. after heartily relapsing for my birthday into the consummate smoker i once was [all of a month ago], i woke up on monday morning sounding like patty/selma of bouvier fame. although i was consoled by reliable sources that it was sexy, i've rid myself of the desire to smoke another cigarette, ever.

2. now, i don't kiss and tell, but if i did, you'd know how much fun i had last night. i'll just say that rain makes a charming soundtrack and the perfectly rakish gentleman is always a nice way to cap off a birthday weekend.

1. and now, to recap twenty-two in twenty two words: job, apartment, adult... goodbyes, hellos, friends... love, heartbreak, strength... laughing, crying, blogging... decisions, disappointments, hysteria... trains, bars, brunches... good, bad, rollercoaster.

twenty three, bring it ON.

2:53pm UPDATE - one thing you probably could GUESS about my weekend, even if you weren't there.

1. that i'm going to have to reschedule tonight's lsat class for tomorrow or thursday, due to the fact that i got eight hours of sleep over the course of two nights and am currently crashing like the titanic.

end update transmission

love, krissa .... 9:08 PM ... link!

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entertain yourselves...

i posted this a while ago, and then quickly took it down in favor of the lying game post. i have tons of little stories and minor hilarities to recount from my birthday weekend, but right now i'm flushed, lazy, and still living in the fun of the past few days and nights. so content yourself with this, mmm?

what is this thing, this date thing?

i have a confession to make. i've never actually dated. i know this may seem foreign and strange to you, you must think i'm lying, a girl as flirty and cosmopolitan as me, n'est ce pas? but alack, it's true. i've never dated. by dating, of course, i mean an interaction kind of like:

"hello, i'm dating you, we met _______ [some common options are: on the subway/on nerve/in a coffee shop/through friends/through work/at a bookstore]. i look at you, you look at me, there's a spark. we kissed on the first/second/third date. we slept together on the second/third/fourth/fifth date. we see each other 3-5 times a week, have met each other's friends, and have memorized each other's cell phone numbers. we are capable of making coffee at the other's house without asking for assistance. if/when we break up, it's mildly painful but politcally correct and we probably don't see each other anymore."

you all know that routine, right?

instead, i have some travelled some less-beaten paths while playing le jeux d'amour.

there's the PNG dates [Perfectly Nice Guy]:

"hello, i tried to date you. it ended after a few dates, where you were either predictable, arrogant, or boring. i probably gave you the closest response to honesty that i could about why we wouldn't be seeing each other anymore, but the balls-to-the-wall truth was that i wasn't attracted to you. you were probably perfectly nice, posessing one or more seinfeldian traits that made it easy for me to make up a nickname for you [Cigarette-Stealing Man, Roly Poly Sensitive, or Finger Gun Guy] and harmlessly mock you, exploiting our date to get laughs out of my friends. sorry, but that was the way the cookie crumbled. don't worry, i've had my heart karmically squashed to balance the scales."

there's the painful Fuck-a-Friend variety:

"hello, i've known you for ____ years, let's fuck because we suddenly realized we like each other very, very, much. and then things will be awkward and we might even hate each other for a while but the thing is, i won't be able to get you OUTTA MY HEAD and i'll mask it like i'm trying to save the friendship but really i've just fallen like a ton of bricks for you. It probably ends badly, unless the sex wasn't mind-blowing, at which point we'll become comfortable friends."

rarely, we find the Scumbag-Fuck...

"hello, i can tell you're crazy right off the bat. how about i just sleep with you without forming an emotional attachment? and then when you just get too bat-flyin' crazy for me, i'll walk away and we'll remain frenemies."

there's also the True Love Gone Horribly Wrong variety:

"hello, i think i'm in LOVE with you even though i've known you for five minutes and being that we're both eighteen it's statistically unlikely that you're my soulmate, but what i'll DO is: pretend desperately that we're in love until it becomes painfully apparent that we have almost nothing in common and you like FOOTBALL AND CARS while i like POLITICS AND QUICHE and we break up and never talk to each other again."

Notice how none of these are successful? Notice how none of them are the ward-and-june-cleaver version of dating that we all hear about? you know the 1. girl meets boy, 2. boy and girl like each other, 3. boy and girl date model?

this explains that when i find myself turning a corner and suddenly looking head on at the foreign beast that is The Dating World, i suddenly feel like i'm in a foreign country without the requisite language skills or currency.

hello? do you speak english? can you tell me the way to normalcy?

love, krissa .... 4:57 PM ... link!

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Sunday, August 31, 2003


twenty three and you ain't seen nothing yet, world!

love, krissa .... 6:47 PM ... link!

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