on bestsellers

notes
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i know i have to update my links. i know i need new, fresh, vibrant material.

trouble is, when i go exploring, i rarely find any thing that does it for me. i don't need to know what you're wearing, how wonderful your mother-in-law is, or if you hate your hair.

give me your troubled, your flawed, and your malcontent.


the other day, before going to work, i was waiting in line at the coffee place. i overheard this conversation:

Man: It's a little chilly this morning.
Woman: Yes. I took the dog for a walk this morning and froze!
M: I wanted to eat lunch outside today but...
W: Oh, I think it'll warm up by noon.
M: [leaning in] Can I hold you to that?
W & M: [chuckle flirtatiously].

i roll my eyes.

the woman catches me mid-roll and checks out my outfit.

i feel grossly out of place.

i've beat myself up for so long for finding the majority of people just so damn boring. i've wondered what was wrong with me - why so much disdain? why so many eye rolls?

what do you expect me to do with the person whose life is just perfect? they love their job and the perks it affords them and elucidate this at every opportunity possible. how interesting is it, really, to hear just how safe someone’s automobile is?


i know a couple. on one occasion the male component said to me: "i love my wife more today than on the day we met."

i forced a smile, "that's really great."

then, on a separate occasion, the wife repeated the exact same phrase to me: "i love my husband more today than on the day we met."

i cocked my head and squinted an eye.

"how cute," i said.

i can't put my finger on why, but i found those statements to be creepily disturbing. why the need to inform/convince others of this exponentially growing love for one another?

i know a second couple. during a dinner party, three of us ganged up on the male constituent, because of his straight laced nature. after a healthy number of drinks, we were questioning him on his passions in life.

and he just couldn't reply. he had no answer for us.

"my priority is to my girlfriend and my daughter, " he stated in a mechanical like manner.

"what are you SAYING?" i pressed.

"my priority is to my girlfriend and my daughter," he repeated. he was incapable of offering anything more.

i looked to his girlfriend.

"i can't believe he’s my boyfriend," she said shaking her head.


i was having drinks with a woman i used to work with and have since befriended. she divulged the reason as to why she hired me.

"i got a pile of resumes and when i got to yours, i felt like i had to meet you. so i hired you. you weren't exactly qualified, but i knew i had to meet the hippie girl."

i was touched.

on the first day of that job, i had shown up close to 3 hours late. i had to drive to another city - in a sleet storm.

"i'm here to see shawna practicone (not real name), " i announced at the front desk, soaked and exasperated.

"she'll be up in a second," informed the security guard.

i turned around and this woman with the warmest smile and friendliest eyes bounded through the door.

"krista?" she asked, thrusting her hand forward.

"yeah," i replied, smiling for the first time that day. i like this girl. i thought.


aristotle in his poetics postulates that a central character's fortunes must not change from misery to happiness, but, on the contrary, from happiness to misery.

please let your stories, your blogs, your emails, your conduct, your dinner parties demonstrate your vulnerability and defectiveness. it keeps my interest. it makes you inimitable.

you'll have another?

champagne
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i've been fighting infections for what seems to be going on 5 weeks now. i took several weeks off work and schlepped around in stretchy pants; a paunch developing due to lack of mobility. i lay on the couch and coughed and grimaced and had dvds inserted into the machine for me. i wanted to learn how to sign because it hurt too much to speak. i know how to sign "thank you" because i looked it up once, but my boyfriend didn't know what i was doing.

so imagine my excitement when i deemed myself well enough to attend a housewarming brunch this past sunday. my greetings were enthusiastic and genuine considering i haven't had external contact since late september. i sidled up to the food table and predominantly hovered over the smoked salmon. and then i spotted several bottles of champagne. and a thingy of orange juice.

i turned to the people in my immediate midst, "mimosa?"

not too many declined, and i found myself mixing up a batch of breakfast champagne.

and then a second batch.

and then i misplaced my food.


"more?" asked someone, endorsing a bottle of champagne in one hand and the thingy of tropicana in the other.

"mmm..." i replied, holding out my glass. but i quickly withdrew it when he went to pour the juice. he looked puzzled.

"too acidic," i alerted.

not much longer after, it got to a point where people were beginning to refuse my offers of straight champagne. my instincts kicked in. where's the other ukrainian? and where's the irish girl? i found them both with empty glasses and wide eyes. i believe we polished off the bottle, commanded someone to chill another in the freezer, and discovered someone's housewarming gift of 150 proof homemade grappa.


i had made my way over and sat down next to another friend. when i get tipsy, i tend to blurt out odd, miscellaneous, and potentially mundane facts.

"turns out i ate three-quarters of a lemon meringue pie last night."

"what?"

i explained how my boyfriend brought a defective pie home from work. he instructed me to “try some”, it was “runny but delicious”. the next night, i sat down in front of the tv with one piece and gobbled it right up. i helped myself to another - i didn’t see any harm. the third slice was a little slimmer, as i was becoming a bit concerned that the sugar and lard might make me sick.

it didn't.

i was just so content being home alone, watching some crap movie, and eating so many, many slices of this lemon meringue pie. there was no way that any aspect of it could be *bad*. and it was only the next morning that i was made aware of the pie inventory and of exactly how much i had consumed.

my friend was bemused yet concerned. "yes, well, there's a fine line between compulsive overeating and living in the moment. believe me."

i hearkened back to the key lime pie that she got us as a gift for looking after her cat. she ate the majority of it before giving it to us.

compulsive... i harrumphed. "where'd i put my champagne?"

ooh baby, you're the one II

new kitten
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

it was my birthday a few days ago. i instructed my boyfriend to not get me a new cat as a present. i wanted to pick my next cat.

"no more cats are coming into this apartment!" he ordered.

i recently moved in with him and his two cats. trouble is, they don't like me. they don't sleep on me, cuddle with me, permit me to vacuum them, or balance on my head.

"i need my OWN cat."

"no more cats."


i took my birthday off work, and after breakfast out (bacon and eggs), we went for a brisk autumn walk. we passed a new pet store. my boyfriend wanted to check for cat litter.

"yeah, let's see if they have any kittens!'

as soon as i approached the kitten cage, one of the two kitten jumped up and bounded towards me. she reached her paw out through the bars.

"cute! she's puffy."

her sister was not so puffy.

the pet store owner informed us that the cat i was interested in was "magnificent", and so much cuter than her sister.

"noooo, they're both adorable," i said i picked up the fluffy cat. she clung to my coat.

"play with her sister." i told my boyfriend.

"nah."

"c'mon! don't let her feel neglected!"

we put the kittens back in the cage when we were done. i walked out feeling kind of relieved. i wasn't sure if i was ready for another cat.

"what did you think of the furry one? did you love her?" i asked.

"she was cute. she not 'the one' though."

this statement puzzled me. when we're all so full of full of errors and moods and complications, how do we really know when someone is "the one"? shouldn’t we put ourselves into situations first and then deal with the repercussions afterwards? maybe my boyfriend stating that she wasn't "the one" actually confirmed that she was, in fact, the one.

the next day my heart ached for the furry kitty. i returned to the store. i played with her some more. she purred and she was fluffy. i was this [] close to bringing her home. but i just didn't have the heart to break up her and her sister. i couldn't be that selfish.

i told myself that, on the off chance, if someone gets the less fluffy kitten and busts up the sisters, i'd get the one that i toppled in love with.

i emailed a fellow animal lover about my quandary. i didn't see the point. i knew she'd just tell me to get them both.

"get them both!" she instructed.


i headed back again the next day. there was only one cat left in the cage. i looked around the store for the other. was she running free? getting a flea bath?

the owner recognized me.

"a man came in this morning with his two sons." he told me. "the cat ran to the boys and started playing with them. the father said that was a sign - that was the cat for them."

i nodded and opened the cage.

i picked up the remaining cat. "i'm going to take this one."

“she’s the more beautiful of the two,” he said.

“no...” i replied, smiling.


i got a little scared. another 17 years of responsibility. more heart break at the end of those 17 years.

i inserted her into my coat. her head poked out. we walked home.