whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer...

i'm miserable. i'm disconsolate. i'm languid and forlorn. i'm insolvent and impecunious. i'm crying. i'm headachy. i'm tempestuous and temperamental.

i'm sullen.

i heard a thud, a clunk, and a crash. my ten-year-old aloe jumped to his death.

clay pot broken. mud asunder. cat inquisitive.

he couldn't stand me any more.

on subletting and marriage

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

"hey, you. come have some gelato."

and that, my friends, is how i came to be unwelcomely fondled by a brawny italian in the back room of a gelateria in brindisi.

i tend to take the road that looks the most interesting, with little regard or foresight for my general welfare. this is also why i hopped into a van teaming with drunk russians while stranded in the snow instead of waiting for the cab that i called 30 minutes previous.

so was it the crazy parade that i was expecting to come through my apartment when i placed an ad to sublet it for two months? most likely.

"what's the real rent?", "what's my share of the rent?", and "can i take over your lease?" were questions that got one's candidacy immediately withdrawn. sadly, my screening policy, as you have briefly seen, is not the most rigid.

my first prospect came by to see my apartment and, after taking a quick look around, declared that he would take it.

"well, i'm interviewing several people..."

"my word is not good enough for you? what do you need? a check?"

"no, i have many appointments. i'll be checking references..."

"well, this apartment is really nice. this room is particularly nice."

he was motioning to the bedroom.

"yes," i said, ambling into the living room. "the whole apartment is nice actually. it dates back to the turn of..."

"so in march, when you come back, are we going to be okay?"

"what?"

"are we going to be okay together?"

i realized that he thought i was to be his bride. i pressed my fingers together and brought them to my lips. "this apartment is mine. when i come back, i take the apartment back. you will leave."

"oh yes, i understand." he looked me up and down. "why are you so skinny?"

"i was made that way. so i will call you to let you know..."

"i like it. i will take it. can i try it out this weekend? this weekend i will come and live here. i want to try it out."

his face was expressionless and he was looking directly into my tank top.

"no you cannot."

"i like you. i want to meet you for a coffee. this weekend, we will meet for a coffee."

"no."

"what's your problem? are you married?"

"um, yes. yes." new life sprang into me as i told this lie.

"oh, i see. it's very smart to be married."

"yes it is smart. my fiancé (i choked on the word 'husband') lives upstairs."

he nodded. "this weekend we will meet. i want to be your friend." he stepped toward me and attempted to give me a hug.

i put my hand out in the "stop" position. my palm pressed firmly into his paunch, leaving imprints, indentations, and dimples. it was at this point that i had to question why i was standing in my own living room, keeping a strange, large, unknown man at bay by pressing my tiny hand into his belly.

"you're going to have to leave or i'm going to call..." who was i going to call? the police? my imaginary fiancé?

"you're not so nice anymore. you're scared of me." he did a mock lunge, like he thought that i thought he was going to kill me. i flinched and he laughed.

another potentially life-threatening gambol. i showed horny mcpretend-to-sublet to the door, which i locked behind him. this is the same door i locked behind me when i left for two months. there were no more interviews. there was no sublet. no thanks mary jane girls - not in my house.

breaking up is whatevs to do ☹

playland
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

everyone has their tales of heartbreak and pain and mine are no more noteworthy than the next.

someone once threw his house keys at me in an act of rabble-rousing. that little stunt rendered him homeless. his parents - PARENTS - showed up a few days later to pick up his things.

i also had someone break up with me over the phone, while i was at work. this happened on a wednesday. on the friday he called me up to see if i wanted to do something.

"you can't really do this." i kindly informed him.

"yeah? well maybe i'll call chris to see what he's up to."


recently, at my best friend's (with whom i usually incur spice girl tattoos after a breakup) family's dinner table, we were teasing his 13-year old niece on her impending boyfriends.

"i hope your first boyfriend looks like 50 cent." i said, truly hoping that her first boyfriend does, indeed, look like 50 cent.

"no thanks! i don't like furs."

"c'mon christina, he'll take you to the candyshop."

"ew! anyway, i already had to break up with my brother's girlfriend for him and that wasn't fun."

"what?"

"he didn't want to do it, so he made me pretend to be him. i typed "i had a really good time, but i don't see this going anywhere." ohmigod, she was sooooo sad! she seemed so nice."

"you did this by email or msn?"

"msn."

"did she use the little sad-face emoticon?"

"yes! she even put the one with the tears." she made the gesture of tears rolling down her face.

we felt her pain. there were minimal LOLs.

you decorated my life

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

my boyfriend was recently telling me about his boss's girlfriend.

"she sat at the bar and made pursey lips and moony eyes at everyone. i couldn't STAND her."

"ew. what is WRONG with people?"

"well, not everyone has the self confidence that you have, krista."

i spat out my prosecco.


in my eyes, i'm still the girl who chris dolan punched in the stomach while i was balancing atop the bicycle rack.

i gangled through my youth. so much that my parents would sing the "bony maroni, she's as skinny as a piece of macaroni" song to me. i guess to be fair they sang the "i don't want her, you can have her. she's too fat for me" song to my sister. i think there was some kind of coddling and "oh, it's not true" conversation after, but i can't be too sure of that.

not that we were a very musical family, but i also remember my grandfather singing "won't you make my brown eyes blue" to me. i felt slightly inconsequential when the grandfather that i only got to see four times in my life deemed my sister a better granddaughter on the basis of her eye color. in the middle of the serenade i looked over and saw her blue eyes beaming. i figured it was least i could do considering the corollaries of the "you're too fat" song.


not too long ago i was drinking margaritas by the pitcher with someone who hadn't had tequila since he got drunk, and consequently ill, on it at 18.

"mm. check out that ass." he was not referring to mine.

i checked. "nice... kinda lumpy. kinda misshapen."

"doesn't matter. nice. guys like 'em. big. small... we don't care."

"the same go for boobs?"

"yup."

"then why do all these women get all this plastic surgery?"

"because you feel like you have to compete among each other."

it was the wisest thing i'd heard in about three days.

so the moony eyes and pouty lips - it's bound to make some women more insecure, some wish they had your "self confidence", and others just roll their eyes. i'm convinced you just need to trot off for another collagen injection.

by the way, have you seen kenny rogers lately?

Chapter III: The Dream as Wish-Fulfilment

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i had a dream last night that jon stewart and i were best buddies. we hung out every day before his show, goofing off and giggling. we also saw movies and got absorbed in conversation.

he was a great listener. he thought what i had to say was valid. he looked at me intensely with his green eyes (the pupils had a darker ring around them). we sat by open windows with the sun streaming in.

and then i woke up. i was in a wretched mood the whole day.

"i know dreams like that," a friend said. "true happiness until you wake up."

stupidity is only arm's length deep

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

my old apartment building has a tiny garden in front of it. no one had tended to it for years and it had become overrun by weeds. it was unkempt and unsightly.

my first spring, i trotted in there and pulled up what i could and then planted a whole whack of sunflower seeds. i also germinated some seedlings in my apartment and transferred them when they were big enough. i planted them underneath my window, away from the street.

birds swooped down and plucked the seedlings from the ground. i cheered when they became too big to pull out. hail storms occurred and knocked my plantlets over. i propped them up with stones.

the most fit and/or fortunate survived. they flourished all through august and september. they grew up to my window, close to 7 or 8 feet tall. the birds came again and pecked at the seeds. they dropped enough onto the ground so that the sunflowers came back the next year without me planting any.

the next year my neighbor also took to tending the garden. when i saw him out there with a hoe, i ran out screaming.

“watch my tiny saplings!”

"i know, i saw them," he consoled. "but justin (our superintendent) stepped on a few."

i fumed. "twit!"

that year his flowers along with my flourishing sunflowers were our pride and joy. we'd meet in the evenings to admire our work. he'd give me beers.

"your morning glories are spectacular," i praised.

"thank you. your dwarf sunspots are captivating."

we'd beam.

soon enough, nature had taken over and the birds had scattered the seeds all over the garden. sunflowers were sprouting willy nilly, not just underneath my window as i had originally structured. they were growing close to the street, close to the hoi polloi, my personal nemeses.

because sunflowers are big and conspicuous, they attract a lot of attention, not unlike bright, shiny metal objects. every morning i'd find another one of my sunflowers destroyed. people would grab and twist the sunflower heads until they came off, leaving behind a raw and sinewy stalk that would wither and die.

one night i returned home and saw a couple of guys kicking one of my sunflower heads down the street. i watched them lose interest at the intersection.

another morning i found one wedged between two parking meters right in front of the garden.

i retrieved both and placed them in bowls of water on my coffee table.

people won't overextend themselves to be stupid - all the sunflowers within a 4-foot range from street were destroyed. a forest of grey stalks remained.


it's lilac season. keep your eyes peeled for people reaching up and twisting off the lilacs - which are actually branches of the tree - leaving behind more sinewy branches.

i guess we're lucky that stupid is also lazy. there's a bit of hope for that of which we won’t overextend ourselves.

touch and go

tulip
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

it had been weeks, alas, months since i'd heard from her.

2006 has had a rough giddy-up-go: a health scare, the royal fuck-over from a client, and menacing bank threatening foreclosure. friends are supposed to stick by friends during tough times, no? and where was she? off sipping cristal champagne and attending dinners that her "team members" threw in her honor, that's where.

so i was mentally drafting my proverbial "throwing-in-of-the-towel" letter when i saw her name appear in my inbox.

"holy graces of the high heavens!", i exclaimed.

i opened the email.

how's this? it read.

she was gracing me with a favor that i had requested of her 7 months earlier.

good, i replied. (it was good.) how shocked i am to see your name in my inbox.

she then called.

"my work hours are crazy."

"uh huh."

"i wake up at 3 am and i'm at work at 3:30."

"mm."

"i show up in my pajamas."

"that's nutty."

"on top of my 100-hour work week, i've been volunteering my web development services for cancer research."

"um hmm."

"i'm saving the world, krista. i'm saving the world!"

"that's fabulous."

"it truly, truly is. now listen, i have to jet. the man whom i love and the man who loves me is taking me out to dinner to celebrate my fantasticness."

she's got an extension on her dismissal. people can score very easy points with token "keep-in-touches". i’m a sucker that way.

plus she doesn't take herself too seriously. i need as much of that as possible.