Sunday, October 31, 2010

You're Hungry, But I'm Starving

I guess it's time for the requisite Halloween post, right? I think it's in the Blog Rule Book. Has to be done.

Fine then.

Well... since I'm in Toronto doing a two-week job trial, and lacked funds and room for costumes, I went with the very simple, very non-costumey Veronica Lodge. I planned ahead with my Betty, and my "costume" pretty much consisted of me in a polka dot dress, knee-high boots and fake money coming out of said dress and boots. Add a bitchy attitude, a Betty, Archie and Moose - you've got yourself a Lodge.


Went to a party (thanks, Chris!) in the Annex. Iceman and Slider showed up... disappointed that I've never actually seen Top Gun.


Betty & Veronica. Once Betty (Shari) uploads her pictures, there shall be another blog post o' Halloween-tography. She has the better photos, mine mainly suck.

Veronica Lodge does NOT take pictures. Pictures are taken of Veronica Lodge. You dig?



Betty and Moose got together, therefore re-writing the entire comic book series. Sorry Midge, Moose has a taste for blonde.

Guess that leaves Archie for me. But come on, we all know I'm disinterested and uncaring. Sounds like real life, actually. Ah, shit.


Iceman proudly displays the $1,000 I gave to him. Looks real, doesn't it?

I'm very artistic.


Nothing makes me happier than impromptu acoustic singalongs. Thanks for providing, stranger!





I broke character briefly. I have failed.

Archie's hair refused to go orange. His scalp, however, was totally into it.


At the end of the long night, this is all that was left of my costume.

If anyone needs a loan, gimme a call.  Hope you like construction paper.

Happy Halloween, freaks and geeks! More pics to come.

I know you'll be waiting in antici.....pation.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Girl Of My Dreams, Things Are As Bad As They Seem

Went to the Raptors season opener yesterday against the Knicks, thanks to Steve of Raptorman.ca.

Brought along an old friend who used to grace these blogpages quite often. Back in the day, in the old life. Quite different than the life I have now.


My camera zoom didn't want to co-operate, so I apologize.

They lost. But it was close. Kept us on our feet, screaming at 'em all.

For those of you who know me as a Raptor fan (which probably isn't many of you), you know Jose Calderon is my favourite. I defend the crap outta him.

He disappointed me last night, and I hate to admit it.


Win or lose, it's still fun to watch. 


As for everything else?

It's strange.

The low days have hit again, and it seems to be because new situations unnerve me. Things are not at all as I thought they'd be when I came back to Toronto - I surely over-fantasized about my new happy life.

That, plus other things I don't have the energy to get into, have left me feeling unlike myself. Bad timing for the ol' depression to be my bedmate.

It's bad. And my positive self-given pep talks don't seem to working.

It has to get better though. I'm willing it.

Run 'n tell that.


Monday, October 25, 2010

It's A Sad, Sad World When A Girl Will Break A Boy Just Because She Can

Your ol' pal Kris has been a bit MIA lately. And maybe a bit vague. Just a bit.

I apologize to those who care. But I have my reasons. I'm currently in Toronto, staying in a short-term rental and today was my first day at a job trial.

So y'know. I've been busy.


I don't like packing, and had never packed two weeks worth of stuff before. Two weeks is an odd amount of time.

It's been a weird couple of days. Daisy is staying in St. Catharines with my parents, so I have to be without my girl for at least 2 weeks. Never happened before, and I'm already missing her horribly. I keep expecting her to meet me at the door when I come home, and curl into my lap when I'm in bed.

I'm such a suck.



It's been a weird type of lonely. It's part of what I want and yet I feel like something is missing. 

Everything is new territory, there's nothing familiar right now. This won't be the same Toronto life it was before, and while it's strange and lonely right now, I'm going to make sure it's better than it ever was.

New life, new memories. But the old friends and people I love will still hugely be a part of this new thang.

No one gets rid of me that easily. Ha!


Was without a TV for one night. The quiet was damn freaky.

So I watched Hot Tub Time Machine on my computer yet again.

Today - there is a TV. My sanity is saved. Slightly.

Well, I'm off to try to punch this migraine into submission and hope for actual sleep tonight. Stay tuned for lonely whining, vague updates and maybe a shenanigan or two.

Maybe.

Friday, October 22, 2010

You Are Not To Blame For Bittersweet Distractor, Dare Not Speak Its Name

I've been waking up at 4am every night for the past week.

I sleep better than usual for a few hours, then suddenly wake up. At this point, without fail, strange memories start up, fast and furious, and negative thoughts run wild. This, coupled with the usual anxiety attacks, leads to a nasty night. I'm not a fan. It's stressing me out more than it should.

Things are happening and things are changing, and I think they're the cause. At 4am, it all seems like a really bad idea and it forces me to recall bad memories and stress about what may lie ahead. These things make me want to scream "I give up, I take it all back!" and go hide somewhere safe. Become complacent.

But at 4pm, those same things seem exciting; falling into place and pushing the bad memories away.

It's amazing how day and night can be so different.


This chick here is going on a little unknown journey. Good or bad, I can't say yet. I don't know what to expect, because things often take a different route than I assume they will.

But I hope you'll come along for the bumpy ride.

Bye bye past mistakes. I'm ready for the new ones.



Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Great Words Won't Cover Ugly Actions; Good Frames Won't Save Bad Paintings

You know the saying. Everyone's heard it.

"Imitation is highest form of flattery"

Well, ain't that grand. There may be some truth to it, sure. But how about this instead:

"Imitation is the highest form of flattery, except when it's unbelievably annoying and sometimes friggin' creepy."

There ya go. I made it better. Ta-dah!

Apparently there is no such thing as true individuality or new creativity. Everything has been done before by someone else, somewhere else. That being said, there is still no need to try to emulate or even become a specific person, especially if that person is not a celebrity in any manner.

I know, I know. You're thinking "Uh... Kris? Why the crap would anyone want to be like you?"

Trust me, I have no idea.  Half the time I don't even want to be me.

And yet, there are still a key few who try their damndest to do their best Kris impersonations. I have no doubt that they are reading this, so perhaps they will get the hint and quit jacking everything I type on stupid websites, copying things I say and do, and generally being a pain in my ass.

If not, well... I'll have to beat 'em. My karate is stronger than their karate.
 
On that note, this song somehow reminds me of the subject. So enjoy.

But not the same way I would enjoy, dammit!





Friday, October 15, 2010

We Chase Misprinted Lies, We Face The Path Of Time


Sometimes I just wanna rip out my hair.

Do you guys ever get sick of it? Internet, Facebook, emails, messages, Twitter, forums, cell phones, texts, BBM, blogs, etc, etc...

It can be too much; sometimes we're just too connected by technology.

It's hard to escape, and information is overly accessible. You end up finding things you wanted to avoid, seeing things you don't want to see, and knowing too much. Or, you give away too much of yourself (yeah, yeah - I have a blog. I know I'm guilty.)


A part of me would welcome the chance to get away from it. All of it. Head up north and disconnect. No TV, no internet, no cell phone. No updates every five seconds from friends and strangers alike.

I'd love to sit by the lake and write in a spiral notebook. Go fishing. Sit around a bonfire with an acoustic guitar and good friends. Go on hikes all afternoon without worrying about missing phone calls and messages.

It'll happen.

Maybe I won't ever move away indefinitely. But one day I'll have had enough, and just need to run away for awhile.


And, of course, I'd bring my best bitch.

Who's with me?



Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Cuz On The Surface The City Lights Shine. They're Calling At Me, Come & Find Your Kind

So, I see that you're hiring. That's a good thing, because I applied.

Resumes are fine 'n dandy, but they don't tell you much about a person. I can write you cover letters all day, but don't you want more than just words on a page? You would probably like to know if I'd be a good fit. Well, let's find out...

Employment makes me smile.
Hi. I'm Kristen. Most people call me Kris. I'd even be ok with you calling me "Employee #234", or "hey you!". Just don't ever call me "Krissy". The results aren't pretty.

I'm a writer; you can learn all about that on my other website. I'm certain I've mentioned it once or twice.

But aside from that, why should you  hire me?

Other than my extensive knowledge of useless facts and ability to change any song lyric into a biography of your life including rhyming words? I'm a hard worker. I enjoy tackling new tasks, and going above and beyond to get them done correctly. I love immersing myself in projects. I make friends easily, and tend to get along with all co-workers - even that guy. You know that guy. No one else will go near him, but I'll take him out for coffee. He thinks I'm funny.

I'm very organized. It's kind of sad how much I like files and folders and everything put in its place, but hey - it helps! Spreadsheets are my secret boyfriend.

As a writer and editor, my attention to detail gets a daily workout. My friends would tell you how annoying I can be when I reflexively correct their spelling and grammar. Luckily they still like me (does that mean I can add 'likeable' to this list? Done.).

Yep. Embarrassed
As you can tell by this post, I'm ok with embarrassing myself publicly when it's needed. If that tells you how much I'd like to work for you, then it's worth it. But if you need more than my personal thoughts on why you should hire me, maybe my wonderful, intelligent, extremely good-looking and not-at-all bribed readers may have some comments that will convince you. (*Ahem* Right guys?)

If they don't... what about my cute little dog?


She's a big fan. And not just because I give her treats.

Maybe you'll be one, too. Operators are standing by.



Sunday, October 10, 2010

She's Whiskey In A Teacup, She Gives Blondes A Lousy Name

Another lazy Sunday... you know what that means - Q&A via Formspring and random unrelated pictures. Are you excited? Probably not. Are you gonna read it anyway? You'd better.


Do you think money matters in relationships?


Yes.

But I don't mean that the way you probably think I do. Money actually makes me really uncomfortable, in a very strange way. It always has.

The reason that money can be an important part of a relationship is simple - without it, a couple can go stir crazy together. The result will probably not be good.

With enough disposable income, a couple has the ability to do things. Fun things. Go to movies, go out to dinner, go to concerts... have a good time together. Having been in a relationship where money was a big issue, I know how it can suck to be continually broke. When all you can do is sit around and stare at each other, you may end up strangling one another.

So yes. Money can matter, as a couple. But if you're the type to date someone because they're rich, then you kinda suck. And I will slap you.




Ok... here's one. If you could have your dream job and money, life, time, reality had NO baring, what would it be? xo Shevy


This question was posted by my dear cousin Shevaun. Hey Shev!

To answer your question, I want to take over the world. That is all.

However, that's a pretty dang hard job to land. So until that inevitable day when I become World Ruler, I'd like to be the following: writer (good thing I already am one), TV host, magazine editor-in-chief, instrument-rockin' killer-singin' band chick, host of a rock and/or roll radio show, band manager, clothing store mannequin, continuous neglecter of my other blog, and Alf or girlfriend of Alf.

But don't worry. When I rule the world, you guys can have all my other fun jobs.


Happy Thanksgiving, Canadian counterparts.

Enjoy the tryptophan-induced comas!



Friday, October 8, 2010

She Was Made To Blow You Away, She Don't Care What Any Man Say

Do you spend a lot of money on clothes?

I don't. For me, the cheaper the better. And I'm not ashamed of it.

That's right. You heard me. I BUY CHEAP CLOTHES. Woo!

There's a few people I know who would faint after reading that sentence. Sorry, guys. But I don't get it. I understand that you want quality stuff, so you pay more for it... but some people buy expensive things just to say they did. Random high-end names that might not even be that well-made, but hey - it's all about the name, right?

Screw that. Buying non-expensive things mean I can get more for less. (Yeah, it's not rocket surgery... I know this.) Add that to the fact that I'm really talented when it comes to being broke, and I rarely buy things as it is? Yeah. Cheap is the way to go.

I'll never understand why people brag about the exorbitant amounts of money they spent on a purse. I'd rather brag about my savvy skills 'o saving cash (read: low-maintenance life).

It makes me laugh when I have conversations like this:

"Cute shoes, Kris! Where'd you get 'em?"

"Thanks! Target. $6. No shit!"

"..... oh" Make a face. Walk away.

or

"I really like your shirt, Kris. Where'd you get it?"

"Walmart. I got two of 'em cuz they fit so well."

Judgy, judgy facial expressions. So much WalMart hate.

It's ok, though. You can judge me, I don't mind.

I'm proud of it.

And, hell - let's say you and I both had $200 to spend on a sweater. I find one for $15. You have to get the  fancy-named one. You end up with $0 left.

I still have $185 for beer and poutine.



I win.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

You Make Me Perfect. Help Me Be Somebody Else.

I always used to keep my eyes open while kissing.

Didn't exactly realize I was doing it, though I was fairly aware of what I was seeing. I think I enjoyed watching someone else closing their eyes; being as completely in the moment as I surely was.



No one had ever complained, save for one ex who thought I was looking at other men while kissing him.

And no. I was not. My eyes, while open, have never been the wandering type. In any way.

Then I dated a man who said he kept his eyes open, too.

My eyes must be shy, because they started closing after that. He called me out, said I lied about being an open-eye-kisser.

Not true.

I just wasn't ready for the contact it brought. Looking eye-to-eye with someone during something as crazy intimate as a simple kiss can be... Well, it was new to me.

Eventually I liked it. For years my eyes had a mind of their own, opening and closing depending on where the feeling took them, and his did the same.

And now?

I don't know what I do. I haven't paid attention in a very long time; haven't even thought about it.

You'll have to kiss me and see.

But what about you?

Do you kiss with your eyes open? Look at the person you're kissing, to see them in a vulnerable moment?

Or do you close them, savouring the kiss?

Enlighten me, since I seem to be remembering nicer, sweeter things than usual.


Fanciful girl I am, at times.


Monday, October 4, 2010

Do You Remember When We Met? That's The Day I Knew You Were My Pet

Did the Nuit Blanche thing on Saturday. Started around 7pm - and stayed out for the entire 12 hours. I really didn't mean to, but hell. When things are still open you lose track of time.

Prepare for a picture-ful post, people.


Was so happy to start off the night with two of my favourite people and their new beautiful bundle.


She was clearly riveted by the entire Nuit Blanche experience. I was riveted by her in general, and had to fight the urge to steal her.

Yes, I am a bad person. Babies are my weakness.




Got to hang out with a lot of people that I haven't seen in awhile - sadly didn't get pictures of them all, but they know who they are (that is, if they're reading this. Are you? Huh?)

Our total walk was about 10km, but it seemed to take forever to get from Nathan Philip Square to the Gladstone, where we ended up. Hardly saw any exhibits or installations because the lineups were insane or we somehow missed a lot.

These things happen.



The Daniel Lanois exhibit at the square. Pretty great, we liked it. But I do have an issue.

As soon as we got there, the clips on all the huge screens (that go alone with music) were playing scenes from scary flicks. My first reaction as always? "There better NOT be any Excorcist scenes."

Of course there were. So for a few minutes, your cowardly blogfriend Kris had to stare at her shoes. Sad.



It's like my life is one long mustache party. Lookin' good, Michelle!



This was fun. They played Street Fighter with musical instruments.



Oh look, it's Masuka and his wife!


This was at the Gladstone where we were supposed to stop briefly for a beer and bit o' burlesque, before heading down to (where else?) the Rhino.



Yeah. But we kinda didn't leave the Gladstone til about 6am.




Jordan with some lovely burlesque ladies.


 A blast from a few years past, Leah entertains Mike with stories. And thumbs.

I missed out on karaoke, much to my dismay, but I somehow managed to get on stage over at the burlesque side of things. Not to do burlesque, mind you. I don't like to scare people away.




Yes, I love Nikki Sixx. So?

Topped off the nuit with some delicious poutine over at the Lakeview. Poutine makes every night/early morning good.


We crashed in the back of Leah's car for about an hour, then headed on home to Niagara in the rain.

Sunday was for sleeping and general zombie-like behaviour. Can't tell if my brain is working properly yet or not.


I named the Bench 'o German Flag Colours "Schweinsteiger". It now belongs to me.

Thanks for comin' on the journey with me, people. Now go back to sleep. Please.


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