Thursday, April 15, 2004
thursday, march eighteenth...

was exactly four weeks ago. and exactly four weeks ago, i returned from brasil and met stuart at shiv's apartment. the week that followed was simply the most magical week of my entire life. it went too quickly, and now time drags on as i count down the days until i see him again [current count: 42 a-g-o-n-i-z-i-n-g-l-y long days]. but in honor of this tiny little milestone, here's an excerpt from the long, beautiful story of that week that i've been writing since he left. here's the spark that started it all.

...there is always a telltale moment in the dance of attraction between two people, be it physical or emotional. a toss of hair, crossing your legs in their direction, an unecessary touch on the elbow when walking through a crowded area. i fully admit to being a master of these subtle directives and am usually fully aware of when i’m beguiling someone with charm. but this was the exception to the rule. here's how it was: we sat down in the living room, you on the couch and me on the adjacent armchair. dom had arrived and we were chitchatting aimlessly. i had kicked off my boots hours earlier, and in the act of lighting a cigarette and settling into the armchair, i tucked one foot under and extended the other, letting it rest on the corner of your knee.

i will swear to my grave that prior coquetterie aside, i did this completely without pretense. i was getting comfortable, my foot needed someplace to rest, and there was your jean-clad knee. you, whom i'd immediately warmed to. whose very first smile thrilled me. the moment my foot pressed your knee, as natural as that action was, alarms went off in my head. you, someone i’d so instantly liked and admired, might think i was hitting on you so blatantly! an unfamiliar element of prudishness took over. i didn't want to flirt with you like a cat with some new plaything. the way i flirted with countless other men, often to pass the time at parties. i actually liked you.

in the instant your eyes met mine, not two seconds after making contact, i withdrew the forward foot, feeling almost ashamed that you’d think it was a crude advance. the look on your face was too quick for me to read. it was a small smile, with a touch of surprise to the eyes. on the subway ride home, i tried to decipher that sphinxian look. i berated myself for my thoughtless foot. but it'd felt so simple, and there'd been such a strangely familiar chemistry passing from foot to knee. i hadn't meant to do it. and yet, i couldn't stop thinking about it.

days later, our arms and legs were comfortably entwined as we rode the subway, kissing and smiling every three minutes as we did all week. you looked at me, were quiet for a minute, and said, "you're going to think this is really strange, but i know the exact moment."

i was already fluent in our language. so i knew what kind of moment you meant. "when?" i asked. and i thought, wouldn't it be funny, but no - no one notices that kind of stuff but me - still -

"your foot -", you started to explain further, but i was laughing by then.

"me too!" and then we rushed over each other's words, only to find we were saying the same thing. the same feeling of ease, the same pleasant surprise of the foot, the same moment of shock as i withdrew it... the same.

and then we kissed.

i love you stuart. and my foot loved your knee even before that. here's to four more weeks, a million times over.

love, krissa .... 11:23 PM ... link!

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Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Out of Memory, Please Back Up Important Information

have you ever had a piece of information fall out of your head? you're walking along and plop, something you swear up and down you used to be completely sure of... is gone. what remains is simply the empty slot in your brain where the information used to live. so you have a memory of information. just not the information itself.

this happened to my best friend once. she couldn't remember a word. she knew the meaning of the word she was looking for, and then she couldn't remember it. we spent an entire weekend trying to remember the word, asking everyone we knew if they could remember it. the funny thing is, now i can't remember it either. see? and i haven't even done enough drugs for this to be blamed on the inevitable short-term memory-loss.

but yesterday i lost something of my own. something fell out of my ear. something i've known for years. it's the force-quit command for macs.

i've been dealing with fidgety, dodgy macs for five years. mostly in college, where i ran the newspaper on that plasticky-bit-on-the-end-of-a-shoestring budget (is there even a word for that plasticky bit? have i forgotten that too?). the temperamental macs that pissed everyone off at the computer lab? those were handed down to us, cinderella-style. our computers here at work, too, are cranky old apples. so i'm quite used to force-quitting a program in order to keep work-flow moving.

and then yesterday, IE freaked out on me like it does on a daily basis, and i forgot how to force-quit. i spent all day willing my fingers to naturally gloss back over those beloved and useful keys to execute to ship-saving prompt. nothing. i've psyched myself out. i can't remember.

database out of memory space. please help.

love, krissa .... 4:44 PM ... link!

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Tuesday, April 13, 2004
joey the wiseguy meets carrie bradshaw, here i come

friends and enemies alike have long been aware of my oft-repeated threat to defend and/or deface them with my particular weapon of choice. the sentence usually goes something like this:
"i will SO TOTALLY smack you/her/him/them about the head/knees with my Pink Baseball Bat."

see, because it's a baseball bat. so it's good for the smashy-smashy. but it's also pink. which matches my smashing-outfit. which is probably some sort of pink vinyl catsuit. the Awesome Pink Baseball Bat of Style and Doom, however, has long been nothing more than a metaphor for my powers as charm-goddess and feared enemy combined. not so anymore.

as if i needed further proof that stuart is the new walking definition of the Perfectest Man Alive, i present you with his first real gift to me in his new capacity of Beloved:

seriously, people, the owl is now armed. and dangerous. and stylish to the hilt.

love, krissa .... 4:54 PM ... link!

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Sunday, April 11, 2004
a promise or a threat

"people may refuse our love, but they are defenseless against our prayers."

- written on the billboard of the baptist church on hope street, providence, RI.

well, happy easter to each and every one of us. even the godless heathens.

love, krissa .... 6:45 PM ... link!

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