Tuesday, June 29, 2010

In The Half-Light, You Saw Me As I Am

In my 27 years on this big ball o'dirt, I have always trusted my instincts.

No matter what.

People would often talk me out of it. Or try to prove me wrong (especially when my instincts gave me negative ideas about them). But I've tried my best to not question myself.

I gotta say, the instincts are almost always right.

I've just recently realized how right they tend to be. When I've gotten bad feelings about things, or somehow knew that something was happening (or going to happen), I did my best to downplay it.

But I was bang on. And through  most of my life, these silly little instincts have been right on the money.

It makes me more than a little sad, because it's the "bad feelings" that usually come to be reality.

That's life, I guess.

Hindsight is 20/20, but instincts have foresight. I'll always trust mine.

They tell you the stuff you don't want to admit is real. It's your own personal "sign".

And speaking of signs...

While at a music festival this weekend, I heard (more than once) a few songs that have very personal meaning to me. It was a bit jarring to hear them repeatedly, and all in the same day.









And so my instinct is telling me
that I was supposed to be reminded
of all the things these songs brought back for me.



Sunday, June 27, 2010

G-Force Is Twisting The Fate With Superstition

Dear Mystery Toronto Writing Job,

It's me. Again.

Look, I know you've been avoiding me. You rarely answer my calls, emails, job applications - You must think I should get the hint.

But I just can't help myself. I want you. I CRAVE you.

You. The wonderful creative job in the city. The job that allows me to do what I'm good at; that challenges me, but gives me the creative license that I've never truly known.

The job that will put a smile on my face and give me the ability to move back. To start a new kickass life of independence and happiness. You are my first step.

You.

I realize we've never met, but I already know you're wonderful.

And I simply must have you.

So please. Stop being so coy. Playing hard-to-get is juvenile and beneath you.

We're meant to be. I know it. You know it.

I never give up something I care deeply for; I will always fight for it.

And I always get what I want... eventually.

So just let it happen, Toronto Job. Cuz really... you need me, too.


All my love (well, as much as you can really love a job),


Kris




p.s. - Can we also be friends with benefits? I need benefits. Dentists cost a bitchload of money. Thanks.



Friday, June 25, 2010

Beautify The Foothills, & Shake The Many Hands

The emails and messages still continue to pour in from strangers and friends alike. I've said it a million times, I'll say it again - You guys are pretty frickin' amazing.

It also appears that I have a bunch of new readers lately. And I realize that my last two posts are pretty low and pain-fueled. That happens 'round here, you'll soon learn. (But hopefully not to the extent it has this week. Cuz frankly, I can't handle that shit any longer. So I move onward.)

But there's more to me than that. So lemme introduce myself.



Hi.

I'm Kris.

I like beer and Big Macs.

I hate olives.

I have a dog named Daisy. She kicks ass. Quite literally.

I suffer from depression and am prone to anxiety attacks. They're just a part of my charm.

I'm sarcastic, perverted and thoroughly enjoy all four-letter words.

I love Christopher Walken. My brother-in-law's impression makes me giggle. (Watch this - I can't embed it but man, do I love it. And him.)

I have a black guitar named Ziggy Stardust that is currently in storage. As soon as I'm back on my own, I have THREE lovely gentlemen who are forcing me to learn how to play. Prepare for videos of the carnage.

I once broke my foot doing the Elaine dance.

I detest the colour pink. I have never, and will never wear it. But hey - YOU can!

I am obsessed with music. Especially that kind that really makes me feel something.



...but I also have some musical pleasures that I'll NEVER feel guilty for.

I love love. Being in love. Being loved. I look forward to the next time it comes around for real.

I think you're just swell.

I have another blog, but its mostly just blather. As is this one.

I'm insanely loyal, sometimes to a fault. Even to those who take advantage. But I'm learning to shed my doormat ways.

I dislike people who are holier-than-thou. And I know more than my share.

I'm a cereal monogamist. I have relationships with cereal.

I sadly miss my other dog. Hi Jack. Mummy loves ya.

I might break your heart.


I'm glad you're here.



Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Though It Nearly Took A Miracle To Get You To Stay, It Only Took My Little Fingers To Blow You Away

I rarely ever post two days in a row.

But sometimes ya gotta switch it up a bit, right? I think I need to switch up quite a few things. And so I will.

My past few days were hell. Absolute hell. And I allowed things to break me, and affect my health and well-being. I cannot let that happen again; I won't. Nothing and no one gets the best of me without consequences.

Am I better? Am I over it? Happy? No. Hell no. But I have to start somewhere.

Today is a new day.

Yet again, the emails, comments and messages you guys left me were all so very helpful. I don't know how to thank you. You make me feel ok about posting these things, whether personal or otherwise.

I got a Facebook message from a girl I've never met, and it's another example of why it's ok to talk about these things in a public forum:

"this might sound silly, but ive actually read some of ur blogs and i just want to say that you are amazing. I feel EXACTLY the way you do, and i dont even know you. I myself suffer from depression so your blogs are an inspiration and make me feel like im not the only one who feels that way. You're beautiful smart and a damn good writer so dont ever let someone take that away from you EVER. I know this is random because u dont even know me, but ur blogs are just that good.

Jenna"


 This message is exactly why I write about these things. Other than being an outlet for myself, it's sometimes reassuring to know that you're not alone.

And so, although I still feel completely broken and horrible, I have to pick myself up. Get back to the things I love. Music. Friends. Writing. Moving forward with my plans. Surrounding myself with real people and getting rid of the poison. Staying away from the things that only wish me harm and pain.


Kick it all in the ass like it kicked me to the chest, so to speak.

Here's a live version of a song that I'm finding fairly appropriate right now:



I haven't found my sun.

But I won't stop looking til I find it.

(Oh, and p.s.? Carbon copies of me are NOT acceptable. I'm the only me. Take note, and be your damn self.)



Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Pushing You Back, But Still You Ain't Gone

My fun Toronto weekend turned into my personal hell. From the ride there to the way  back, everything just seemed to get worse.

It didn't end when I got home.

I've now felt the closest thing to actual hate that I've ever felt. It's an evil, painful feeling. Sharp knives stabbing my insides. The crying hasn't yet ended; it resurfaces when I'm just not ready for it.

Rock bottom. I'm here.

It's starting to feel like everyone is out to get me. Things manage to get marginally better, and then the ground comes out from beneath me. And everything becomes so much worse than I could've imagined.

I couldn't get out of bed this morning. I hadn't slept, but getting up felt like a death sentence. I can't eat. I can hardly breathe. I've stopped caring.

To those involved in their own little ways, I do hope you are happy. You broke me, and should be so very proud. Write home to your parents and tell them how well you did. You're an accomplished shell of a human, lacking compassion and a functioning heart. Trust that you will fall one day.

I give up. There's nothing left to fight for, and I've lost the strength. Everything I've known is a lie. How do I face that? The pain is too much right now... all I can do is hope for better, someday.

To you, I am nothing at all.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Disconnect & Self-Destruct, One Bullet At A Time


When I get my hair dyed, I take a slew of obligatory "this is what my hair should look like" shots,
so that when the dye fades and my hair gets stupid, I can look back and remember sadly.

You know the shots I'm talking about.




The "How Does It Look With My Head Tilted This Way?" shot.



The "I Am Serious. My Hair is Serious." shot.



The "When I Make My JerkFaces, Will My Hair Look Any Different?" shot.




The "Side" shot. Y'know. To see what it looks like... from the side. Not rocket science, folks.





The "Check Out The Different Bangs She Gave Me, While I Purse My Lips" shot



And oh yes... the "Let's Try It With Flash While I Smile Maniacally Then Recall Why I Rarely Smile In The First Place" shot.

Consider yourselves enlightened.

And now I am off to pack up my shit.

I have a date tonight with a skinny, gyrating man named Iggy

that I will reminisce about while at the beach tomorrow

before taking in a few other bands that night,

thus cheating on Iggy.

Sorry Iggy. But you're a stooge.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Just Like Children Sleepin', We Could Dream This Night Away

Today, your favourite Rambler of Shambled shtuff has two things to share with you.

The first - my lovely Laura sent this to some of her chicks today. And holy hell did it ever make perfect sense:


A real man is a woman's best friend. 
He will never stand her up and never let her down.
He will reassure her when she feels insecure
and comfort her after a bad day.

He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could do;
to live without fear and forget regret.
He will enable her to express her deepest emotions and give in to her deepest desires.
He will make sure she always feels as though she's the most beautiful woman in the room,
and will enable her to be the most confident, sexy, seductive and invincible.

No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of wine.
Nevermind.


See? I've been looking for the wrong thing. Sorry guys. I'd also like to add that wine makes me insanely feisty.

And here is the second thing - the good ol' Video Q&A.

It's long. So I'll still be your bestest bud if you don't wanna watch the whole thing.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

15 Steps, Then A Sheer Drop

For once I'm not going to use my blog as a place to whine and bitch about the rut I'm in, how alone I am, or how depressed and pissy this girly gets.

So, for today, bye bye pouty broad:


...and instead, I'll fake a smile like these two funtastic chicks:


Since I have a bunch of questions for the video Q&A, I know I won't get to them all. So I'm gonna answer a select  few right here. Cuz Masuka told me to. He's smaht.

If you could have a superpower, what would it be?

Pretty sure this would change day-to-day. One day I'd want to be invisible so I could spy on people and mess with their shit without them seeing me. The next day I'd want the ability to make things appear by snapping my fingers, cuz then I could make poutine appear every 5 minutes with infinite beers as chasers.

So... I'd like my superpower to be.... the ability to change my superpower as I see fit. Ha! Today? I can fly. Huzzah, lookit me go!

i have a question 4 u 4 ur next vid blog shamle ramblar why u hate lagy gaga so much?! LMAOOOOOOOO

Oh dear.

Ah, comedians. Gotta love ya. Well, Ye Of Fake Poor Spelling & Questionable Wit.... I don't hate the Gag-ster. She's ok by me. Her music used to piss me off, but I've learned to deal. I like that she pushes the envelope and goes beyond weirdness. Her songs get stuck in my head, so she must be doing something right. Although she IS a-a-a-a-a-a-a buh-butter face.

If you could go to Disney World with any celebrity alive today, who would it be?


First of all, I've never been to Disneyworld OR Disneyland or any of that. So in reality, if it was a free ride for me, I'd go with any celeb. Almost.

However, you're asking who I'd like to go with. Hmm... My girly answer would be Ryan Reynolds cuz he's cute 'n funny 'n junk. He'd be a good time. My messed up answer would be Courtney Love cuz man... just think of how crazy she could make the rides seem, but then she'd puke on your shoes and pee on a child. Sooo...

We'll go with the boring answer. I'd rather go with a friend, boyfriend, or a mix of the two. Because it's a well-known fact that celebrities have no souls are are therefore not allowed past the Disney gates.

It's a small world for those big egos, after all.


That's it for today. If you have a question for the video Q&A, no matter how awkward it may be, email it to shambledramblings@gmail.com or visit the formspring thang.

G'bye.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Nothing Brings Me Down

After my last video post, and my post over at the other blog, I received a lot of comments, emails, Facebook msgs, etc. Some of you were concerned, some offered advice, others just gave interweb hugs.

You're awesome. Honestly.

So I thought I'd answer you all here.

To clarify, I'm NOT planning to  jump into a relationship anytime soon. I'm going on dates, yes. Nothing serious. Exploring.

And, as most of you suggested, I am taking this time to get to know myself. Just me for the first time in 10 years. Not half of a couple; Not "Kris & 'Boyfriend' ". Cuz honestly... "Kris" is a pretty kickass chick. Who knew?

And as for your concerns about the depression...

I've had depression for as long as I can remember. There are a few ways to keep slightly controlled, but not completely. I suffered from it while in relationships, and so I will single.

The reason it hits me so badly now is because I'm alone.

It's a lot easier to push away the wave of crazy sadness when there's someone beside you, giving support, love and comfort. They help lessen the blow. I don't have that now - That's why I get days like I had Friday.

It won't be the last time.

But I'll deal with it as it comes.

In other news?

Here is a picture of the Awesometastic Badass Bitch, Miss Daisy the JRT...

in a restrictive

functional

yet fashionable

cone.



She does not like the cone of shame.


Friday, June 11, 2010

We Struggle On In Depths Of Pride, Tangled Up In Single Minds



There ya have it. As requested after last week's video...
here's the first video Q&A.
Your questions answered.
I've prominently featured my mom's bookshelf, books and table 
lamp. Hope they are to your liking.
And if you're feeling bored this evening, please feel free to hop on 
over to Ye Olde Other Blog. Given today's case of the blues, there's 
bound to be a depressy post that the whole family can surely enjoy.
(I was right - There is.)

And with that, I bid y'all adeiu.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I Never Dreamed That I'd Lose Somebody Like You

Uh-oh! It's time for another essay...


I'm sure many of you think you have one. Or maybe you've just used the term once or twice.

In your life, have you ever thought about the "one that got away"?

Probably.

But not this chick. Nope. I just don't believe in it.

I hear it a lot, and I find it's mostly men who look back sadly about the one that got away. It's strange. Even an ex used to speak about the one that got away from him about ten years prior to me. Another guy was about to get married, yet called a different woman "the one that got away". A few of my buddies have said similar things.

I never know whether to smack them or feel sorry for them.

Think about it. These women didn't "get away" - they're gone for a reason. Something did not work. Labeling them as the ones who got away is saying that they're the ones you're meant to be with; saying they're "it" for you, the love of your life.

But no. They're not. Know why?

If they were right for you, they would've come back to you. And if you really believed in it, you would've eventually gotten them back one way or another. They didn't. You didn't. At some point the window of opportunity closes.

I've had exes and guys I briefly dated call me the "one that got away". And I HAVE gotten back together with an ex after half a year apart. But for all of em? I got away. And I got away because I wasn't "the one".

The "one that got away" only exists in fishing. But maybe that slimy bastard who wriggled off your hook just wasn't meant to be yours.


But don't fret. There's plenty of fish in the sea. And those things are bitin'.

(Trust me, enough dudes on that site have told me so. Ugh.)

Monday, June 7, 2010

I Was Always The Thorn To Your Rose


Welcome to a new week, blogfolks.

Because I kinda like ya, and cuz I'm sometimes a nice person (who knew?!), I thought I'd throw some links your way in case you've grown weary of my ranty rambles and essay-like blather.

Ready?

1. If you're sick of me, you must surely want more of ME - the other blog is still around: Caught - The Ungrateful Sister of Shambled Ramblings

2. The wonderful Tony Pierce re-posted my video from the other day, with his own thoughts on insecurity: Tony's BusBlog

3. These things always make me feel better about my own flaws. How girly and silly of me: Photoshop me pretty.

4. Wanna waste time?: Play with yer balls.

5. Some of these photos end up being so good that I maybe kinda sorta clap with music-lovin' glee: Sleeveface 




As suggested and decided in the comments section of this post, we're gonna have a weekly video Q&A. So send any questions to shambledramblings@gmail.com or ask here:  http://www.formspring.me/ShambledRambler and I'll answer 'em in the next clip. 

No topics for now - throw anything at me. Make it interesting!

I'm excited to read what you lovely jackals come up with.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must go dance maniacally around my bedroom to various types of musical awesomeness.



Saturday, June 5, 2010

Bizarre Love Triangle


I grew up reading Archie comics. My collection was pretty substantial, at least until I sold the majority of it last year when money was especially tight.

I was always on Team Betty. I thought Archie should have been with her and only her. She was nice, smart, athletic... she loved him and treated him so well. Veronica was the spoiled rich bitch who treated him like dirt, yet he always wanted her most.

When I was blonde, I figured I was more like Betty. Loyal with a heart of gold. Often overlooked. But an all-around great girl who would do anything for those she loved.

Yeah, well. I went brunette. Things changed. And y'know what i realize?

Good ol' blonde Betty Cooper was a doormat.

She did everything for Archie. Fixed his car, cleaned his clothes, did his homework... and he still ditched her for Veronica.  Betty put up with it every time.

And Veronica? She knew what she was doing. She had every dude under her spell. Miss Lodge came off as an icy bitch, but really she was just SMART. Men don't fall for pushovers - she knew this.

So with dark hair and a new attitude, I'm switching teenage comic teams.

I'm not Betty. I'm not a doormat, waiting in the wings for life to throw me a bone.

I'm Veronica. A feisty bitch who's gonna get what she wants. No apologies.

Looks like I've finally become who I set out to be.

Oh, and Archie? You're a below average, two-timing small-town hack. Betty can have ya.

This dark-haired chick has her sights set high.

(And if somehow the fictional Veronica Lodge's billions of dollars falls into my real-life lap? That'd be cool too.)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

All The Things I Wasn't



I throw myself at the mercy of you, the peanut gallery.

That's kinda the point.

Cuz one day I'll look back at all this stuff and remember how awkward and insecure I was.

And I will laugh.

(Then hopefully go roll around in piles of money with my stunningly beautiful husband/man servant before jetting off to our summer home.)

Oh yeah. This chick's a dreamer.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

It's The Wrong Kind Of Place To Be Thinking Of You


That there chick
on the far right of a rare photo
in the kinda club she does not usually visit:

... is going a little bit stir crazy, and lookin' for a way to shake things up

... thinks this website is right up her alley

... has decided to stop being the Rejection Queen and is taking some chances

... wishes she was back in Toronto already

... thinks that everything happens for a reason and will go the way it should

... had an intense dream that she was married, but the dude's face was blurred

... is blogging (read: stalling) cuz the treadmill is calling her bad names

... is obsessed with dissecting types of love and it makes her a bit insane

... thinks all cheese curds must squeak in order to be deemed delicious

... believes you should hire her for that awesome creative job in the city

... is waiting for you

... wonders whatever happened to Cyril Sneer

... has contemplated breaking up with Big Macs, but thought better of it 

... has had this song in her head for a few days (and is therefore posting it yet again), along with Tears For Fears - Head Over Heels.



... is searching for her happy, and ready to find it. She's about to win this game of Hide 'n Seek.

You're it.




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