Sunday, May 30, 2010

You Keep Your Distance With A System Of Touch


I don't tend to be a fan of romantic comedies.
They bring out the bitter side of me.

But I notice that the majority of leading men in them
are hot, womanizing, charming-to-the-point-of-creepy dudes
who hurt every chick in their path,
especially the one that deep down they have always been truly in love with.

Ugh.

Of course they all have happy endings.
The pretty jerk realizes that his life has been a sham.
He somehow suddenly develops a heart, a soul and a conscience,
and heroically wins back the woman he always loved.

Now, about her...
The chick lead. She got her heart stomped by Mr. Charming. So she tries to move on.
She dates wonderful men who fall for her. She has the job of her dreams. Great friends.
But she's never quite happy.

That's why these things end like they do.
And they live happily ever after.
('Til the sequel they never make, in which he cheats on her with a foreign maid and she stabs him in the heart with a letter opener.)

Romantic.

For the past little while
some parts of my life have felt like the middle of a romantic comedy.
Awkwardness, confusion, hope, letdowns and more hope.
But screw it.

I'm taking over this thing, and turning it into something more Tarantino.
With a little bit of Burton.
And a killer action sequence.

But if Matthew McConaughey, Mr. Romantic Comedy himself, knocks on my door?

Yeah. I just might give him a part in my life movie.
Turn it into a horror.



Friday, May 28, 2010

Squatter's Rights


It amazes me how little some people know about dogs.

On more than one occasion in the past couple of weeks, I've experienced situations similar to the following while walking Daisy:

Daisy pees.

Random stranger watches, but pretends not to.

I start walking away.

Stranger - "Excuse me, you didn't pick up after your dog."

Me - "Pardon? I haven't needed to yet."

Stranger - "He just went to the washroom there, you didn't pick it up."

Me - "Oh no, she was just peeing."

Stranger - "He didn't lift his leg, he squatted."

Me - "Yes, SHE is female. Females squat when they pee."

Stranger shakes head and walks away, as if I was lying and/or crazy.

Other times, passersby just give me cut-eye as if to say "I just saw your dog squat, and you left it there. You are a bad human being but I am far too chicken-shit to speak of it, so here is my evil eye. Yarrr."

Honestly.

Anyone who comes in contact with me during a dog walk can see the 5 vanilla-scented doggy bags sticking out of my pockets. I always pick up after my dog, even when it's hardly worth it.

But for uninformed and judgy folk - if you'd like to tell me how I'm supposed to pick up after my dog when she pees, please... enlighten me. You are surely wise in the ways of the canine.

Otherwise I might tack a sign on my girl that says:

"I'm Daisy. I'm a female. I have ten nipples and a vagina. I squat when I pee. If I shit? Trust me ...You'll know it. Have a nice day."




Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I Can Feel You Most When I'm Alone

When I was young, I practically lived on the swing in my backyard.

Hours upon hours were spent back there, swinging my little life away. It was the one place I could go that no one could touch me. Far away from school where kids could be cruel and made me scared every morning; far away from the telephone where harassing prank calls seemed unavoidable; far away from anything and everything, including my own sad feelings.

Just me. On my swing. In my own little world where I felt safe and happy.

In less than two months I'll be 27. The swing sets are long gone, but the grass still doesn't properly grow where I spent all the days of my childhood.

I miss it terribly.

Because some things really never change...




I still use it as a kind of therapy.

It still makes me happy, almost child-like.

And it reminds me of how that frightened little girl is now grown up, but still doesn't have all the answers.

So I swing to clear my head of all the cobwebs,  and I remember how to be happy.

Just let go, and reach as high as you can.

Eventually both feet will be on the ground again.


Monday, May 24, 2010

The Love You Lost With Her Skin So Fair

I feel quite tired.

Tired of searching for a way back to what I consider "home".

Tired of wanting to re-create and re-do things that no longer have anything to do with me.

Tired of the the anxiety.

And just tired of being alone.

I've been on a mission to turn my co-dependance into independence.

Turn my sad thoughts into positive action.

Concentrate on me and making it all happen.

For the most part, I've done quite well. But with the ups come the downs, and it's a never-ending struggle to not succumb to the low days.

I want what I want. And I'll get most of it, eventually. But what I miss out on will keep these melancholy days calling time and time again. They're so familiar that I forget how to feel normal until I have a slight taste of it. And that small dose of "happy" can make the downward spiral so much worse.

I crave balance. I crave love, and I crave stability. And a peace that means I've come to terms with the things I will never have.

How did this post come from spending time out in this gorgeous weather?

It's because I've spent much more time in my often letdown head.

I'll shake this off. Head up, shoulders back, soldier on...




Oh, Jeff. Sad that both of us are known to strangers as people who are perpetually down.

It's too late for you, but I hope to change it for me.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

I Am All The Days That You Choose To Ignore


Here's a question that comes up in conversation sometimes:

Can men and women just be friends?

It seems that quite a lot of people believe that no, they can't. Not without any type of attraction or feelings that take it further than a friendship.

I'm not so sure.

A lot of my guy friends say opposite sexes can't simply be friends... to which I think, "Huh... interesting, cuz you're just a friend. Right?"

Apparently I am wrong. (Me? Wrong? It's rare, but it happens.)

And I suppose that just shows my ignorance, because it is often my male friends I'd least expect who later tell me they have feelings for me. Or used to.

Does that mean that all of our friends of the opposite sex aren't really our friends?

It's frustrating. I get along with guys better; I have more guy friends.

But I'm not attracted to them all, nor am I trying to date them.

Maybe it's situational, based on circumstance...

Or maybe we're naturally predisposed to want... everyone.

Nah.

...Cuz I'm not really into you.


Single life is so complicated. It's just better when you're spoken for and happy.


* Note - My lovely gay boyfriends are not included in the aforementioned discussion, as they are repulsed by the very idea of myself and any other creature of the female variety and therefore friendship is just that.


Happy long weekend, ya horny non-friends of the same and opposite gender! I'm outta here!

Kapow!


Thursday, May 20, 2010

Tuesday, Wednesday Break My Heart

I'm a bitch.

Not always, but sometimes. Sometimes I do stuff on purpose to kinda annoy folks.

Like when people get those Picture-A-Day desk calendars?

Yeah. I like to go through them and write stupid messages on random days of the year.

So when Neil got his Family Guy Trivia One-A-Day calendar this year, it surely surprised no one at the station when I promptly went through it and marked days with my messy left-handed printing.

Things like:

October 3rd - "Don't be a bitch. Buy me a chocolate bar. Now."

and

February 13th - "Yes, that's it... cry for Stewie. Life isn't what you thought it would be."

or

April 28th - "Your mom goes to college. No, really. She's there - pick her up!"

But some things weren't mean or annoying. Some were just cuz I love my Neil.


For Thursday May 13th, I wrote "Give Kristen a big hug NOW!", because, when I wrote it, I didn't yet know I'd be leaving.  When Neil got to that day, he was sad that I wasn't there and posted this on my Facebook wall.



When I DID find out I was leaving, I left a few specific messages.

Namely Monday May 17th. "Don't forget about me, please. Love Kris."

He didn't.

Cuz nothing...

I mean NOTHING...

says "I love you" like a half-nekkid Stewie complete with star tassles.

Who loves ya, baby?


Me. That's who.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Hello Operator... Can You Give Me Number 9?

For anyone that's been reading my blog for awhile, you may know my dear friend Masuka (pictured below with Bob and I). This little ditty is 'bout him. It's another long-ass post.


A couple of weeks before I moved back to St. Catharines, my lovely twin friends came up and visited me in Toronto. We had been out a pub, having a couple beers and eating like fat kids. While outside for a smoke, we were discussing the new Alice in Wonderland and I spoke of how (although I adore all things Johnny Depp and/or Tim Burton) I disliked the re-make of Willy Wonka.

I then got a text message.

Masuka - "Yeah, Johnny Depp WAS creepy in Willy Wonka".

Me - "What the shit?! Where are you?"

Masuka - "hehehehe."

I turned around - no Masuka. Looked everywhere - no Masuka. A creepy guy smoking near us kept smiling at me funny so I actually became paranoid enough to believe that somehow he had told Masuka about our conversation.

This, my friends, was the beginning of a Pocket Dialling Saga.


For some reason, while in the confines of my "Purse of Ill Repute", my Blackberry just loooves to call Masuka.

He calls it Ass Dialling, but it's actually Purse Dialling. And it Purse Dials him all the damn time. So he listens to whatever conversations I may be having, without my knowledge. And then proceeds to text me and freak me out.

I was at the gas station with my Dad one day, and I said that I hadn't pumped gas in a long time since I hadn't been driving.

Text from Masuka - "Go on Kris, fill it up. You can do it."


Leah & I were parking somewhere in Toronto, counting out change for the meter. Possibly singing loudly and off-key in made-up languages while counting. One dollar.... two dollars... three dollars.. another fifty cents...

Text from Masuka - "Yeah, $3.50 should be enough."


My friends and I were at the bar, discussing boobs. Yup, boobs. I may have spoken about how mine weren't big, but luckily perky. My friend said hers were big but not perky enough. And one of the dudes said that size didn't honestly matter as long as they were NICE boobs.

Text from Masuka - "I wanna meet the chick with the big boobs!"

And so it continues, with other conversations that I'd rather not post about at this time.

One day Masuka will hear something that he should not hear. And then he will be sorry.

After that, maybe I'll start locking the damn keypad on my Blackberry.

But til then?

Well, I'd just be a bad friend if I took away all his fun.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Is She Really Going Out With Him?

I've never had a problem meeting new people. This also means that I've never had a problem meeting new guys when I'm single. Because I'm rarely looking to date anyone, I'm pretty good at explaining why I'm not interested... luckily I can also be good at making them back off when they persist. (Although, in hindsight, most of my long-term relationships happened because the guys were still persistent when I pushed them away. Interesting.)



Anyway... Because of all this, I've never needed dating sites. For me, they're just kinda fun. Or a way to pass the time when you're feeling really lonely and otherwise bored.

BUT - The questionnaires and profile questions they have are mostly useless. They don't really tell you much at all. So I've decided to compile a list of the things I want/don't want in a man.

This might be kinda ugly.

Kris' Wonky List O' Dating:


1. No alcoholics - Been there. It's exhausting and heartbreaking at the same time. I like to drink; I like to drink with dates. But if you need to be shitfaced more often than not? You're useless to me.

2. No Jekyll & Hydes  - Again, been there. If you have a nasty temper when you drink? No thanks. If you like insulting me and purposefully making me feel like shit after you've had a few beers? Screw you. Be alone.

3. Must Love Music - You don't have to necessarily like all the same stuff I do. But like music in general. Expand my music knowledge and I'll do the same. Nothing is better than a night of sharing music with each other.

4.  Don't Hit On My Friends - Self-explanatory, no? Actually... if we're dating, maybe don't hit on ANY other chicks. Or else I'll kiss your best friend. This is a warning. Hope he's cute.

5. Realize That My Quirks Are Permanent - I'm weird. I'm awkward. I often make no sense. But hell, I'm fucking loveable. Mostly.

6. Never Try To Control Me - I've made the mistake of being controlled by boyfriends before. Never again. If we're dating, we're partners. ... but, uh... Can I be the Senior Partner?

7. I Secretly Love Affection - Kiss me, hug me, hold my hand. Tell me I'm pretty. Make me feel special. If we're past dating and now in a relationship, show me you care. Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to know?

8. Liars Are Losers - I hate lies. If you lie to me or hurt me, it's hard to re-gain my trust. I'm honest to a stupid fault, maybe. But don't ever, ever lie to me. Or you die.

9. Gotta Have Passion - I mean this in all ways. Passion for me, for yourself, for the relationship. If we never fight, we have no passion. You fight for things you care about. And besides, a passionate man is sexy. So there ya have it.

Did I miss anything in this long-ass post? Geez.

I used to say my rules of dating were "Don't lie to me, don't cheat on me, don't hurt me".  And that was it. That's all I asked.  It's still true, this is just the longer version.

So I guess if I meet a dude who passes inspection, I'll just send him to this post and he can decide if he's right for me or not. And if he needs to know whether I'm worthy? I'll just send him to this ol' post on my other blog.

But come on. I'm worthy.

...sometimes.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Times Have Changed, & Times Are Strange

It's the weekend already? Where'd the week go?

Lemme recap to ensure that my brain is in working mode....

I spent most of Monday in Toronto. Paid a little visit to the ol' radio station...



... and they put me to work within 5 minutes.


I'll never admit to them that I miss voicing stuff. Shhh.

While in Toronto, Patrick & I put a few wheels in motion. Cuz that's what we do.

I was also lucky enough to get a visit in with my sweet little doggie, Jack. I miss him so much sometimes, I could literally burst into tears. Needless to say, I was really quite happy.

And last night I went on a date.

A date with two hot chicks that was long overdue.  Going on girl dates is much less awkward than going on a date with a boy. And if I laugh til beer comes out of my nose, they wouldn't care if it's unattractive. Plus, I already know I like them and don't have to worry about letting them down gently.

I'm picky about who I date, so what?

Speaking of dating...

In the past few days, more than a handful of people from my past have gotten in contact with me. I literally haven't spoken to these people in YEARS. And it was all random & unrelated.

Some of them used to play very important parts in my life; some of em... not so much.

But I can't help but wonder why all of a sudden they want to get back in touch.


Feels like I have a Time Machine and went back to 2007.


Nope. Definitely don't have one of those.

Interesting week, it was.



Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Think You're So Clever But Now You Must Sever

I know that I put a lot out there on the ol' interwebz.

Some people may read my blog, or see my videos, and think they know everything about me.

But of course, they do not.

By putting these posts and these videos in public view, I do realize that I set myself up for open criticism and odd comments. For the most part, I've been lucky enough to avoid that. The majority of you guys are pretty damn awesome. But not always.

I have a whole entire REAL life beyond urls and YouTube clips.

And so, to anyone who would like to insult me or other people in my life simply because they've seen me 'round the sites, get real.

I've got two new video clips to post.

So to the peanut gallery who may want to talk some shit about them, and me & those I care for, please realize that these are merely clips of Patrick and I having a bit of fun, feeding off of each other's silliness and going with it. I am well aware that these are not a TV show. But you do not know what happens behind-the-scenes, and what may be going on as we move forward with our project.

And you also do not know me.

For everyone else?

Ignore all that, and watch some silly nonsensical videos!







Rant. Over.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Mama, I'm Comin' Home


Y'know the saying "You can never go back home"?

It's true for a lot of people. But not for me.

When I was left without options recently and the stress of not knowing where to go, my mom didn't hesitate to bring me back home. Back to the house I grew up in, back to my childhood bedroom. Back to my parents. They picked up my possessions and the pieces of my old life and brought me back. No questions asked.

My mom has given me a place to re-set and re-evaluate, without making me feel like the failure I thought I surely was.

When I go back to Toronto, head held high and better than ever, I will owe it all to my parents for giving me this time to breathe and make positive changes.

My mom is my support. And I don't know how to thank her.



As I type this, Daisy has crawled into my lap and fallen asleep. I am reminded that she, too, was a mother in her old scary life that we rescued her from.

So I'm dedicating my 400th post to her, and my mom, and all the moms in my life who have made it richer.

Thanks, Moms.

Friday, May 7, 2010

I Fell Through This Crack, & I Kinda Lost My Head

You can see me here, right?


Cuz before this afternoon, I didn't technically exist.

"Huh?", you ask? Lemme explain.

Awhile back I lost my wallet, or it was stolen, at the good ol' Horseshoe Tavern. In that wallet was my driver's license, my birth certificate, my SIN card, my health card, and any other possible ID that a chick like me may have.

Stupid to carry it all around with me, I know.

The problem is that in order to get one piece of ID, you need to have others. So if you have nothing, you're fairly screwed. I managed to get a new license without other ID, but ran into red tape trying to get the rest.

Recently, I tried to get my license renewed with only my expired license as my identification. Ya still with me? The lady said that wouldn't work, so I HAD to go online and order a birth certificate. I guess the protocol has changed now, cuz I was finally able to get one.

So, today my birth certificate came in. And with it, I was able to renew my license.

I now have proper identification. And once again...

I exist!



See? I even have a reflection now.

Good for me.



Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Cereal Killer

The other day, good ol' PatZ (of Shithawks On Parade) watched the video I posted below and came up with some new Kris-or-Patrick-related products for future use.

The main one being a delicious breakfast cereal and accompanying logo... Krisperanto! 
Brain Cereal. But not really.


That's right. I'm a cereal.

Crunchy. Bold. Tasty. Maaaybe a little bitchy and socially awkward. Did i mention tasty?

Because of the name, I thought it would only be sold in Mexico. But PatZ had other plans... It's MADE in Mexico, but no one will eat it there because they know what it's really made of.

Go figure that a product with my name behind it would be full of carcinogens.

...carcinogens and FUN!!!

Watch for it in the bargain bin at your local shady grocer in the year 2012.

And stay tuned for my line of at-home poutine kits.

PatZ, you rock!

Monday, May 3, 2010

Got This Dance That's More Than Real

It's another week.

I've noticed that weeks just keep coming, one after the other. Much like days, hours, and minutes.

And if they ever stop? Yeah, that means you're dead.

So welcome to the new week.... you're alive.

To kickstart the first week in May, here's a new segment from Patrick & I.



So maybe we embellished a little.

Maybe I don't have studs on my bitch boots or listen to death metal rap.

Maybe Patrick doesn't wear girlier clothes or more makeup than me.

But maybe we are both assholes sometimes. Just maybe.

And again, please head over to our YouTube channel to watch and leave comments.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go practice swearing, moshing and being un-delicate.
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