fluffy whipped chocolate creamy delights

chocoballs
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i wanted to have a sort-of running theme in this blog. and when i discovered a second bonehead wearing sunglasses at an outdoor patio at midnight, i thought that could be it: random boneheads wearing sunglasses in bars. this one was sitting all alone, looking fabulous. i took a picture of him with my friend's camera because, being a bonehead myself, i didn't have my own.

"make sure you send it to me," i nagged her about 57 times.

"yup, as soon as i find my cable."

i'll never get that photo, i thought.

turns out, and i don't have the whole story yet, some crackhead broke into her home and stole her camera, with said picture. i think maybe her boob was touched as well. this one's furtive, but i intend to get the story sooner or later.

so yesterday, when i went for a run, i came across two teenage squirrels who were attempting to have the sex. they kept grabbing each other and tumbling and somersaulting around. head over each other's tail. i'd never seen squirrels having the sex.

i also discovered, in the same spot i discovered the 29 kilos of cream cheese, 3 boxes of kosher whipped chocolate cookie puffs. i don't know WHAT'S going on with this picnic table. but THIS is going to be my running theme.

i unwrapped one of the puffy balls, separated the cookie base from the whipped delicious center, and placed them near the frisky teenage squirrels. they approached them with trepidation until one finally grabbed the cookie part, which gave the confidence to the other one to grab the fluffy ball part. about halfway through, he got frisky again and grabbed the other squirrel. they tumbled and toppled and rolled around. they got whipped chocolate delight all over them. it was the damned cutest thing i'd ever seen.

open da night

open da night
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

there's a very popular coffee shop in montreal's highly-coveted mile end district. it's been around for eons, but over the past decade has been infiltrated by the neighborhood hipsters and need-to-be-seens. the coffee remains the best in town and you only ever have to tell vito how you like it once. he'll remember you, your name, and your coffee's fixings for the rest of time.

it's called "open da night". some time ago the "y" and "and" fell off of the "open day and night" sign. no one ever put them back, and the name stuck.

this is why, when the building burned down in the winter, the entire city freaked out and rallied together to rebuild a makeshift and temporary coffee dispensary across the street, in a flower shop.

the owner, rocco, was in mexico during the fire and renovations, recovering from cancer treatment. a tumor had formed on the roof of his mouth.

rocco was a real character. when stretched, he probably was 4'5". he only spoke italian and only spoke to italians. everyday he entered his coffee shop, wearing his little gray suit, and walked past the lineup of work-at-home-ers, completely disregarding them. the rumor is that he hated these young'uns because they ran his italian friends out of the coffee shop. but the fact that he was making about 1000x times the profits never came into play.

rocco gave back to the community. every christmas he set up the most elaborate nativity scene you'd ever seen this side of st. peter's. the manger was 100% to scale and inside rested mary, joseph, baby jesus, goats, bunnies, i think a cow, and 4 tonnes of hay. the lights and music made kids squeal.

every summer, for san marziale, the street would shut down to traffic and some kind of crazy procession with the virgin mary would take place. meanwhile, rocco was cooking up a trough of pasta for 900 people.

rocco returned from mexico this spring to a renovated "open da night". when i first saw him, i thought his much older brother was visiting from italy. this man looked more like a relative rocco must have than it looked like him. the cancer had gotten to him. his face was hollow and ashen. but he was out on the street in his little suit. every. single. day.

until last thursday. he was hospitalized. and he passed away on sunday. the cancer had made its way from the roof of his mouth up through his cheek, eye, and finally to his brain.

at the funeral today, his daughter read a letter that he wrote last year, on his name day - san rocco. and if my italian served me correctly, he was telling his family and friends to enjoy the festivals, the processions, and the pasta.

i made that pasta part up.

after his daughter finished reading the letter, the church, which was packed and spilling out onto the steps, broke into a standing ovation. i'm not catholic, and i'm not a church-going type, but i do think i heard somewhere along the way that clapping in church is certainly frowned upon. but it really was beautiful to experience something so spontaneous. there's no way something like that could have made God mad.

day tripping

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

when i was 16 or so, i was waiting at a bus stop with a friend, when i had a flash.

"i don't want to die wearing big earrings." i said.

she looked at me quizzically, "why? you'd be dead. you wouldn't care."

"i think i'd just look so dumb.'

"well, i don't want to die when i have my period."

i shook my head, "no, no... that's not it. it would just be so senseless being dead and having big ol' hoop earrings on. i mean, you're dead. what's the point?"

i imagined the paramedics lifting my limp, lifeless body. my dangly hoop earrings would knock them on the wrist and they'd have to rearrange their arm and shuffle me around because the big ol' hoop earring with feathers would be hindering proper life-saving techniques. "now why'd she go and put those on...?" they'd think.

i looked earnestly into my friend's eyes and hoped the bus wouldn't come. this was it, this is what i've always been trying to figure out - the senselessness, the futility... how nothing meant anything.

she blinked her frosted blue eyelids at me, "i still think it'd suck if i had my period."

xo

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i recently read a story in the paper about a father who killed his twin 3 1/2 year old twins. he tried to pass it off as them both drowning - one in a pool and another one in the ocean. while he was trying to save one, the other happened to wander into the ocean. something ridiculous like that. i then read the names of the two, blond, dark-eyed twins: krista and karen. it sent a shiver down my spine. my name and the name of one of my best friends.

there's a greek pastry/coffee shop on my block. i go in from time to time. it's a well-known coffee shop with regulars and with cute, artsy college students working there. about 2 weeks ago i learned that one of the owners got into a horrible bicycle accident. he collided with a rollerblader and was in a coma.

"who is this? the big guy?" i asked.

"yeah, one of them - they're twins."

they were twins. i never knew. i guess there was always only one working at a time.

he passed away earlier this week.

and so they begin...

gingerbread house
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i got the call. the divorce call.

"i'm in the middle of a divorce." she said.

"come again?"

she proceeded to tell me all about the end of her 3-year marriage; her 8-year relationship. my heart was going out to her. i was listening non-judgmentally and offering my "if there's anything i can do’s...”.

until she said, "well, i knew it all along. i was marrying my best friend. there was never any 'oomph', no spark."

my tone changed. "well, why'd you marry him then?"

"i thought it would make things better."

i immediately thought back to the ceremony. all of this couple's family and friends, looking on with praise, love, and approval. a few tears dripped when the vows were exchanged. but now i saw that all of our sentiment was in vain.

i felt as though i'd been duped. my intelligence insulted. why drag everyone, especially her (soon-to-be-ex) husband, through this sham of "love"? the celebration of hokum. how could she bear the loving looks of approval from her parents, from all their friends that came from so far?

you've got one shot. you've got one chance to have me at a wedding with my sentiments being sincere. from the second time onward, if i can even muster to attend, i cannot be held accountable if i'm caught in a photo with my eyes rolling. or with my all my attention paid to the zucchini dip.

friendship, courtship, and just plain inescapable family

inchworm
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

we let people into our lives in the hope that they'll make us better by, perhaps, teaching us things, making us laugh, or bringing us places we otherwise would not go.

this is why when we get into skirmishes or feel the need to be passive aggressive, we have these incredible one-liners that can pierce the heart and leave mouths gaping.

the low-blows. i've done it too. the kind of thing you IMMEDIATELY regret once you've said it, but can't help feeling smugly pleased at its effectiveness. but what does it bring you at the end of the day? how easy do you find looking in the mirror?

as i'm getting older, and quasi-wiser, it's becoming much easier to recognize the low blows. but it still remains difficult to brush off the effect.

i have a friend who can't get past what her mom once told her while giggling with a martini glass in one hand and a young boyfriend in the other. and i'll never forget my parting words to someone with whom i was once in love. i'm sure we all have that one statement that rears its ugliness when we least expect it.

it's funny how powerful negativity can be.

bono vox

everybody's all about bono these days.

i've, sadly, only seen him once in concert - the unforgettable fire tour. bono is a tour de force. he kicks my ass off.

when the U2 concert ended, i looked at my girlfriends and said, "let's meet him tomorrow."

"yeah! let's do that!"

so we all went to bed with the plan to meet bono the next morning.

i slept over at a naysaying friend's house. "you'll never meet bono."

"yes i will." said this really lucid voice in my head.

"yes i will. i'm meeting bono today." i said.

we all met up at the most expensive hotel in town. there were about four other girls with the same plan already there. the concierge told us U2 was not at his hotel. we waited and waited. and froze and waited. soon doubts began to set in. did we pick the wrong hotel? the concierge came over again and told us to leave before we got hypothermia. right at that moment, a huge tour bus pulled up.

"okay, they're here." he conceded. "but you'll have to wait on the other side of the street."

we crossed the street and waited some more. by noon we started to entertain ourselves by singing U2 standards. we sang "40" over and over. it was unquestionably a horrible, horrible rendition.

after about an hour, all four members of U2 walked out of the hotel. our singing stopped and we floated across the street in silence. larry, the edge, and the other guy whose name i can't think of right now ran into their bus. bono walked over towards us, sat down on the hood of a car and said, "this morning, i was awakened by the singing of angels."

some postscripts

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

well, it turns out the guy wearing sunglasses (see Friday, April 22, 2005) in a bar is my boyfriend's new manager.

hil-ar-ee-ous.

and i had a visit from my cousin this weekend. i met her and her husband for breakfast one morning.

"we had trouble finding the remote for your t.v." they said. (pls see Tuesday, June 21, 2005)

my boyfriend and i laughed our arses off.

"did you not see the rabbit ears?" i questioned.