Monday, May 30, 2011

You Don't Deserve To Be Lonely, But Those Drugs You've Got Won't Make You Feel Better

If you've been coming to my blog for awhile, you'll know that I often used to talk about how to deal with the fun baggage of depression, and then finding out that I had an anxiety disorder on top of that.

A roller-coaster of gleeful times, my friends.

The reason I was so open about these things is because I was tired of the stigmas attached - this shit should be talked about. Depression and anxiety are not taboo subjects. The amount of feedback I got from people thanking me for being open about it when they weren't able to was kind of astounding. An eye-opener.



I also spoke about how I refrained from taking any medication to help me get through the tough days. Over the years, I just couldn't do it. I worried about side effects, I worried about not being myself anymore. I was scared that I would be in a constant fog, unable to feel anything.

Well, things have shifted. The realization hit -  I shouldn't feel nervous to get out of bed in the morning, or anxious when I need to leave my house. I shouldn't have hour-long panic attacks while watching tv on the couch, or in the middle of washing the dishes.

Something someone said to me really hit home:  

"You don't know what it's like to feel like a normal person does. You've never had that."

So, in an effort to seek some balance, I got a new (kickass) doctor and was prescribed meds to treat the anxiety & depression. Two different ones, no less.

Yep. Yer good friend Kris is gettin' into the drugs.

For those that message me frequently and ask advice on this subject, I'll be keeping you posted now & then. If this blog suddenly turns into SuperHappyFunTime Ramblings of Joy, you'll know what did it.

And for you normies who have never had to deal with depression, anxiety or wonky-brain-issues, well... pretend this post never happened.



It was just an illusion.



Friday, May 27, 2011

Lightning Is My Girl




Welcome to the end of a pretty damn busy week of stuff, junk and other things.

Most of it was busy due to business shenanigans as the new endeavor starts to take off. New clients, old clients, imaginary clients.

Projects and pitches and people, oh my!


But enough about business stuff. More about that some other time, mmkay?

I managed to squeeze in some non-work-related stuff, too. Like this video interview I was part of for Social Scratch. Also known as a perfect excuse to head to a bar in the middle of the day. I'm a thinker, y'know.

Thinking 'bout hops & barley, mostly.


They interviewed bloggers and social media folk for a video that'll run all over NXNE this year, just in time for their launch.

You'll see it. You know you will.


Even if all of my pearls of non-wisdom end up on the editing room floor, it was still fun. Great group of people.

Owly Images

Say cheese. Or something less predictable.


On Wednesday I got a last-minute invite to a TFC game. I don't think I had been to BMO Field since that Zidane game in '09.


Please note the dark sky. And the crowd of people who will soon disperse.

Cuz oh yeah. It rained. Holy crap, did it rain.

But my Partner-In-TFC-Watching for the evening quickly ran to the vendors to pick us up a couple of sexy waterproof ponchos.


See?

You can't handle my sexy poncho. I understand. Judging by the look on my face, neither could I.

Have a poncho-rific weekend, folks. Stay dry.



Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Farewell My Black Balloon, Let The Weather Have Its Way With You

The long weekend hit, and the weather was beautiful. Perfect for doing one of my favourite things... sitting on the deck with a beer.

Sadly, this chick was outta beer.

The horror! The anguish!

But it's as though the folks at Carlsberg read my mind (and empty fridge), as they sent me here:

ideserveone.ca

I filled out some info and ended up with a Carlsberg status card. That card doesn't lie - I definitely deserved one.


Before that, you're taken through a video of your life via pictures, as this guy explains who deserves a Carlsberg. And who might not (tsk tsk).



The end result, of course, was that I deserve one.

Good choice, Carlsberg. Smart answer. I happen to agree.

If you head over to ideserveone.ca (logged into your Facebook) become a fan, get the 'I Deserve One" app and submit a story, you can win weekly prizes. Beer prizes. Those are the best kinds.

And since I deserved one? I had one.Or two.



 

Patio beers with friends.

Cuz, y'know... we deserved 'em.

And hell, you do too.



Saturday, May 21, 2011

Take Whatever's Left, & Take It With You Out The Door

Some things are not so black and white.


The many shades of grey can add some depth, make it horrible and wonderful.

But, for me... It's time to throw some colour onto this boring canvas.

Life is way too short to live in grey. Shake shit up in technicolour.


Get out your crayons, boys and girls. Today we're gonna draw outside the lines.





Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Figures That My Courage Would Choose To Sell Out Now

All my life, I've been fairly obsessed with song lyrics. Yes, even "Skinnamarinky Dinky Dink" held deep and profound meaning. Sharon, Lois & Bram were poets for pre-schoolers.

Relateable or well-written lyrics can absolutely make or break a song for me, and often have. Of course, the sadder the words, the deeper they cut to the core and created a new musical obsession. That's just the kinda chick I am.

It's no wonder that songs, more than anything else, have the ability to immediately transport me to a different time in my life, and bring with it all the emotions and thoughts that were involved. It's like Quantum Leap set to music. I can't always gauge where the next leap will take me.

The only downside is that sometimes I can't listen to some of my favourite songs because they take me to bad or sad places that I don't wish to tread again. Elliot Smith & I are still working on fixing our marred relationship.

That's what lyrics do.

I've looked back at old lyrics I wrote a long, long time ago... reading them, I appeared heartbroken before my heart had ever been broken; old & tired before I had even hit highschool. I guess I knew the key to drawing people in was to hit 'em where it hurt. That, and well... I was a sad, sad child at times.

Ah, lyrics.

Somewhere, there's a song with your perfect lyrics. The words are talking to you, know exactly what you're feeling in that instant. They'll make you smile or bring you to tears.

Tell me music isn't magic. I'll prove you wrong.




 "You're just an empty cage, girl, if you kill the bird."







Monday, May 16, 2011

Knives Don't Have Your Back

Received this in an email:

Lately you've been holding back a bit on your site. Where are the posts about your love interests, the call outs, the stuff that makes you angry or get excited about? Bring back the Kristen edge!


The emailer went on further, but that was the crux of the message.

Since he's not the only one to ask what's up, I figured I'd answer in a blog post so I wouldn't have to bore everyone more than once.

I guess you're right. Lately I haven't been posting many rants or personal stuff. No depress-y posts or paragraphs of faux-hopeful words to push me along with whatever I'm doing.

Very observant, grasshoppa. Wax on, wax off.


Je m'excuse if that bugs you. But come on. Can ya blame me?

I won't be writing about my dating life until I find someone that I actually want to stick with. Wouldn't it be annoying to always read "Met some dude today. Not really into it. Went out with WhatsHisFace today. Not really into it."?

Blech.

And "call outs"? I assume you mean when someone is being shitty and I give 'em their very own blog post o' bitchiness. 'Get ye behind me, Satan'-type stuff. Well, meh.

Instead, I just personally let them know that I don't need their bullshit and then keep my distance until they smarten up (if they smarten up). There's been a few. That's that.


As for stuff that makes me angry or excited, that applies to friggin' everything in my life right now. There's a lot going on. Good, bad, ugly... kinda scary and whattheshitamidoing, followed by confidence and hellyeahikickass.

Since moving back, it's all been about ch-ch-changes. Purging myself of negative stuff/people and concentrating on me. Taking some chances, but ultimately moving forward with what will make me happy. Or... less batshit crazy. Wh'ever.

I'll explain more as stuff happens. 'Til then, I'll try to bring the aforementioned edge back and let you folks in a bit, just so that you don't all run away from me.

Be my friend. I'll give you lollipops.


In the meantime, if you have any more questions - send 'em along. In the next Superlame VideoBlog of Doom, I will be answering any (stupid) questions you throw at me.

So ask away. I can tell you where babies come from, what my favourite colour is, why that guy got a restraining order from you, and much, much more.

Shazam. Kapow. And goodbye.


Saturday, May 14, 2011

And Didn't You Know There Was A Choice? It's Never Yours, But Someone Else's Voice

A few days ago, I hit the Spoke Club for the launch of The Body Shop's new Body Butter Duo.

Mmm. Butter.

Brought along the charmingly handsome and handsomely charming Media Man Shaun Proulx as my hot date.

We sipped on cocktails and kept the servers comin' our way with the tasty appetizers while checking out the guests of the afternoon - Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. Y'know, the gold-medal figure skating duo from last year's Olympics.

See the connection? Body Butter Duo. Skating duo. Yeah, you get it.


They were cute.

I remember watching the Olympics with an ex last year, and debating whether they were together, he was secretly in love with her, or she was secretly in love with him.

I believe I was right, but I won't tell ya which opinion was mine.

Sucks to your ass-mar.


Oh look, another duo.


Apparently people become jealous when you have your own gold medal. Even when it's made of paper.

So I shared.


If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you'll remember Patrick, Shaun's fiance. Here, he models the gold medal name tag far better than I could ever hope to.


But this li'l guy wins hands down.

(Daisy is slightly pissed at me for this one. She'll get over it.)


As a long-time user of the Body Shop's Body Butter, I was more than happy to try these out. I get weirdly excited about new beauty products.

See? Some things make me girly.

But just some.

Shh.


Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I Look At You Through The Bushes Where You Can't See Me

Going through some old photo albums on Ye Olde Computing Device, I came across a chick I once knew quite well.

Some folks may refer to her as Krissy Longstockings. Those folks may get punched in the throat.


She wore pigtails and hats. She was not unlike a Gilligan's Island reject.

Mary Anne meets Ginger meets Kermit the Frog.


She liked beer and travel chairs.


She wore pink socks and running shoes because that's what cool kids do in the woods.


She communed with nature.

Dancing counts as "communing". So does drinking.


She took pictures with boys who had no eyes.

Was it because she removed them herself, with her forest-ninja skills?

Yes.

I mean.. uh... maybe. We'll never know.


She had a kickass dog who could swim like nobody's business, and let all forest creatures know that they would indeed be eaten if they stepped outta line. Or, stepped anywhere at all.

This braided lady of the past would like to come out again.

Weather's getting warmer.

Cottaging, camping, fishing, swimming, bonfires, throwing strangers down the wells...

It's time. Bring her back.



Monday, May 9, 2011

I Ain't Seen The Sunshine Since I Don't Know When

After the dogfood larvae incident and the dismissive way Purina dealt with it, I was very happy to receive this huge basket of Cesar Bistro dinners for Daisy.


So she's been eating Steak Tips and Garden Greens, Steak Florentine, Tuscan Style Stew with Beef, Grilled Chicken Primavera... in other words, my little dog is eating better than I am. (I live on the Single Chick Diet - pasta, hot dogs, anything frozen, and beer. Of course beer.)



Needless to say, one of us has been much happier than the other around dinnertime.

She's lovin' her Cesars. I'm lovin' the lack of larvae. Really.


Sorry Maggie, Daisy's takin' over.

*cough* Daisy the Spokesdoggie? Anyone? *cough*


Moving along with this Daisy-centric post - I finally bought her a crate. I was against it for so long, but my dog expert friends advised that it was best for the girly, and she needed a secure place to sleep when I leave the apartment.

It had gotten to the point where Daisy figured out how to open my fridge while I was out. Oh yeah.

Ever found butter in your bed or perogies in your furniture? Hot.


Happy Mother's Day, Daisy. I bought you a doggie jail.


Except... she likes it! Huzzah, a success... so far.

A blanket and a monkey friend make her house The Superhappyfunplace. Hopefully this means that the contents of my fridge, shower and closet are now safe from my li'l monster.


Woof.



Friday, May 6, 2011

The Crumbled Cities Stand As Known, Of The Sights You Have Been Shown

A warning to all readers - please beware.

It has been brought to my attention that multiple sightings have occurred recently, causing havoc and alarm in each area they've been spotted.

Doppelgangers. My doppelgangers, specifically.

They're presumed dangerous and are likely to swarm places that advertise poutine and inexpensive beer. They may travel alone, or in large packs of Kris Lookalikes.

In the majority of cases, they will look evil... like this:


However, in the interest of causing confusion to those who have encountered past hair colours, they may also look less evil... like this:


Now, if you see The Head Doppelganger or one of her Doppelganger Minions, you will likely mistake them for me (that's kinda the point, no?). The only way to distinguish between us is to ask "Can I buy you a Big Mac?". Everyone knows that Doppelgangers as a species are revolted at the mere mention of Big Macs, and will immediately implode. If no implosion occurs, then yes... you may indeed buy me a delicious Big Mac. Thank you.

So stay on your toes, friends. Arm yourselves.

I'm fleeing the city for a few days, going into hiding  in order to lure the Team of Kris Doppelgangers out into the open where they can be destroyed by fast food.

Please... don't let me down. Only you can prevent.. well, forest fires. But also Doppelganger Takeovers.

Be safe.



Tuesday, May 3, 2011

To Save The Pain Of Once My Flame & Twice My Burn

Run for yer lives... we're talkin' bout dating. 

In past posts, I've mentioned the fact that I've never been overly attracted to previous boyfriends right off the bat - the crazy attraction came after getting to know their personalities and seeing our chemistry. Then, I was hooked (or stupid, depending on the situation).

Point was, I've never seriously dated anyone based on looks or surface crap. Ever. Strange, but true.

Well... let's not forget that, while I kinda hate it, I check out the online dating sites sometimes. I get bored and decide to sift through the hundred trillion messages, just in case there's a winner hidden in all the crazy.

And it's here, ladies and gentle-people, where my issue lies:

Dating sites are making me shallow.

Shallow as an empty pint glass.
Ask any single girl who has an online dating profile, and she'll tell you that the sheer number of messages she receives can be tough to wade through. Who has the time and patience to thoughtfully respond to every single message, and carefully peruse every item on each guy's profile?

I don't. It hurts my head.

So, if the message they sent is remotely interesting, it sometimes all comes down to their photos. Am I instantly attracted to them? If yes, I may write back. If no... well, the message has to be pretty damn good for a response in that case. I feel bad and try to be nice, then realize - these dudes don't know me. Why care?


In real-life encounters, it doesn't work that way for me. But online dating is a shallow, shallow business.

I hang my head in shame.

But hell - I may be shallow and evil online, yet I only go out with people I've met in real life.

So in reality, I'm just evil. Regular ol' evil.

That, I can live with.


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