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9/30/99
Not too long ago, I’d had all these escapist notions of robbing banks and going on the lam (I just like being able to use the term ‘lam’). It’s not as if I really have anything better to do. But I got really into it and then my english email friend in on the act. We went as far as creating an imaginary band called ‘Heist,’ though we never actually got around to writing any lyrics like we were supposed to (never mind the fact that I’m about as un-musical as a person can get). I know the whole lovers-on-the-run motif is a bit stale and cliché, but I felt alright about it anyway. Today I was reading “The Village Voice’s” Best of issue and one of the categories was, Best Place to Fantasize a Heist. The best place turns out to be The Federal Reserve, workplace of my favorite sissy retard, James Robb. I don’t know, there’s something about this meshing of fantasies, heists, crushes, and robbery and ROB’s that is downright invigorating. Hypochondria/Complaint Corner: I have to get a cervical biopsy in four hours, and you know, I can’t say I’m looking forward to it all that much. I’ve also been invited to some reception for Al Gore this evening (by the sissy retard, duh, who else would ask me to such an event) and it would be amusing for the sheer novelty of it. I’ll just have to see if I’m up to it after I get those chunks cut out of me. That’s really yucky now that I think about it. O.k., more uncalled for medical horror stories in October…9/25/99
Twists and turns. Somehow I agreed to hang out with the ex girlfriend of my English email friend. I guess it's not that weird, but I'm not the most outgoing of people. I don't even know this girl. All I do know is that Richard (the email friend) said that his ex was moving to N.Y. from London and knows nobody here and asked him for my number. It just seems odd to me. Jeez. Friday I was going out for drinks with coworkers and one of the librarians, Yvette, asked about this sissy dork that I'm all obsessed with and I said that we were still 'dating' and that I'd try and get him to come out with us for everyone's amusement. I'd never used his full name before--I mean, why would I? James Robb. Yvette said, "What's his name?" I repeated those two dirty words. She said, "I know a James Robb. Is he from Balitmore?" Why yes he is. Her face got all red and she replied, "I went on a date with him in '92." How weird is that?! It turns out that they were fairly good friends, know a lot of the same people, hung out at the same places, etc. I ended up spending the entire evening hanging out with James, Yvette, and Ollie (another friend of Yvette's from Baltimore) and listening to them reminisce about so and so and such and such and that time we went to the Humane Society to get you a cat and that girl who never wore clothes and had a pet snake. It was nuts. I've always marveled at the way people's lives intertwine and here was an uncanny example. I mean, I can remember it being Feb. 12 and being out with friends and James wanting to go home and me spazzing out and convincing him to go to another bar with me and somehow we got to talking about old friends and he mentioned some guy who was all pretentious and a documentary filmmaker and how he went to Telluride (sp?) for that film festival and how he didn't come back for a long time 'cause he was getting all this action with hippy girls and described them as "big girls with big tits who like to fuck." For some reason that phrase has stuck in my craw ever since. And it turns out that this annoying guy was Yvette's boyfriend at the time and it's just so weird to be friends with this woman whose old boyfriend coined that little saying that I've been using ever since I heard it. And I remember that night James walked me to the subway and I got oh so bold and kissed him on the cheek and I don't think he liked it one bit and then I heard later from a friend that he said, "Krista's freaking me out" and how he thought I was being manipulative by convincing him to go to this other bar under the premise that other friends would show up later and they didn't and he thought I did it on purpose to get him alone and it wasn't true, they just flaked on me and this led to a nasty, emotional confrontation two days later on Valentine's Day. Ah...memories. Ack. I just feel so off-kilter. The more I think about things the more confused I become.9/23/99
It's Fall! It's crisp and cool and the skies are bright blue and I can finally wear sweaters with shirts underneath and light jackets and everything's brilliant and I have nothing to complain about. I've been thinking a lot about crushes, friendship, and love lately. I have the tendency to mush all three of those together when it's not really accurate. I mean, you could potentially have all three together, but that's pretty rare. I think my problem is that I tend to sexualize relationships that should really only be friendships. I get these fixations/crushes on people who remind me of myself. This isn't love, this is getting along well with another person. It's amazing when you can connect with an individual so effortlessly, but I don't know, there are these fun things-in-common/similar temperament relationships and then there are others which make no sense and aren't easy and verge on scariness and get under your skin in completely different ways and I'm trying to figure these peculiar ones out at the moment.9/20/99
I was not impressed with Hurricane Floyd. Not one bit. I know Floyd’s Thursday’s news, but I just thought of it now. It was nothing more than a bunch of rain and wind. I wanted mass destruction. At least I got out of work at noon. Next is Hurricane Gert and I can only hope that we get five more storms before the end of the year because Hurricane Lenny is an awesome name and it would be a shame if we didn’t get to it. Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do than poke around the Hurricane Weather Center site. Hmmm, Friday I was given a bouquet of mixed yellow and red roses and that’s all very nice and I’m not complaining (me complain?), but as you may know, I have issues with yellow roses since that’s what I got on Valentine’s Day and I never let these things die so I had to bring this incident up and James Robb claims that he had no idea yellow stood for friendship and that he thought yellow was better since it’s less common than red and I don’t know how truthful that is, but in order to avoid misunderstandings such as this it could be a good idea to brush up on the meanings of rose colors. It’s just a suggestion.9/15/99
Recent amusing things:1). I keep walking past this Chinese take out place with this poster board sign in the window that reads, "Apple Sticks 15 pcs. for 99 cents." I was speculating on what apple sticks could possibly be. Maybe like Jolly Ranchers or some weird fried donut thing. I don't even like apples, but it sounded like something good. However, the suspicious thing was how cheap these apple sticks were. How could anything good cost so little? Well, dur, I finally realized they meant those wooden sticks that go in carmel/candy apples. That still doesn't really explain why a Chinese place is advertising them in their window really. 2). Hurricane Floyd warnings all over the news. Maybe I'm naive and this really is a big deal. Right now I'm just excited to see what a hurricane can do to New York. 3). There was this delivery truck parked by this deli near work from Martin's Potato Rolls and the address painted on the side said Potato Rd. This really cracked me up. I wondered if there really was such a road and if so did Martin put his business there intentionally. Then I saw the rest of the address was Ridgewood, NY. I had no idea there was a Potato Rd. in my neighborhood. This needs checking out. 4). This fashion spread in the Sunday "New York Times Magazine" entitled, "Wild Boys" with all these teens dressed in $1,000 outfits, made to look like Depression era 1940's hooligans who ride the rails. It was pornographic, I swear. They had fake black eyes, dirty cheeks, and were hanging out on trains looking all tough, shot in black and white. Who comes up with this stuff? Why am I not paid big bucks to come up with such sexy ideas? Recent unamusing thing: My doctor bringing up the idea of my quitting smoking and then all of a sudden saying, "You know what? Let's not worry about smoking right now. You've got enough to concern yourself with." Would that not freak you out if you were already paranoid that you were riddled with cancer? Like a doctor, of all people, basically telling you to go ahead and smoke up because...I don't know, I just don't like it.9/13/99
I don't know why I geel so guilty over things that shouldn't matter. As usual, the one time I decide to answer my phone rather than screen my calls it's that random subway fling, Jarred, and he wasn't all that terrible to be around, but I don't particularly feel the need to hang out with him again, but I couldn't just say so. I said I didn't know what my fri. night plans were and that I'd get back to him and of course I didn't and who cares? But then I felt bad all night about being dishonest. I hate lying and can't stand people who aren't truthful with me. I know this is taking things a bit far to worry about giving strangers the run around. I've been feeling all mixed-up and irrational these days. I became convinced today that I have cancer and I've always been a good-natured hypochondriac, but this was really different. Like I started to honestly believe that I'm on my last legs and that's why things have started going my way all of a sudden. That it would just be my luck to get all excited and happy and then croak in like 6 months. O.k., that sounds insane and I'm well aware of it, but I'm at a loss when I have nothing to worry or complain about. I have a compulsion to create havoc in my life.9/10/99
Jeez, people and their kids. This morning I was very tired because I only got 3 hours of sleep last night and then it was excruciatingly humid and my subway was late and I had sweat dripping in my eyes and mouth and was not happy and when the subway finally came it was packed to the gills. So, I'm crammed in there trying not to spaz out and trying to avoid people bumping my wounded knee (I'm obsessed with my knee, o.k.?) when all of a sudden I feel this hand on my calf. I was like what the hell?! Then I realized it was this toddler in a stroller stuck next to me. The kid couldn't seem to keep its (I wasn't sure if it was a boy or girl) hands off me and this woman sitting down seemed to think it was adorable and it wasn't and then I noticed that the kid was attracted to my leg because of the giant bandaid and that's what it was trying to grab. I don't know why, but this really freaked me out. All I could do was look at the mom and kind of smile when I didn't want to smile, but tell her to make her kid behave itself. Oh, it was just wrong. So, I went on another date last night with the former stalkee/crush and it's all so strange. We went to Diner (my choice--that is so n.y., naming places using one word: Rice or the address: 2A, 7B, Bar 89) in Williamsburg and I got picked up in a different rental car (God, I love cars) and I don't know, it's just so twisted. I mean, he was playing L.L. Cool J. and asked if I'd be into going to a Mets game, as he has free tickets, and said, "Normally, I'd be embarassed taking a date through a neighborhood like this" referring to the industrial nauture of the area, I'm guessing. Two different worlds, as they say. My favorite line of the evening was a boisterous, "I can't wait for football season!" that he was aware was demented since he immediately commented, "the waitress looked at me right when I said that and gave me a look like 'that poor girl you're with...'" Yeah, so I'm pointing out all the peculiar things because it's easier to criticize than to admit you like something, and of course I like this guy even though I put a mental stop to it in June. I keep trying to find reasons why I shouldn't allow this to go on. Dumb little things like how he puts soy sauce on his Thai food (you're not supposed to do that, at least I don't think so) and how he thought gazelles were cats like panthers (well, that is pretty dumb) and wants to see movies like, "The Astronaut's Wife" and how he was calculating the hexidecimal color of my nail polish (FF0066, if you care to know). Oh god, I just eat that dorky shit up. I need help. Hmmm, so we stayed out drinking til 3, I got to drive home which was very exciting, as I've never been behind the wheel of a car in the 15 months I've been here, and finally ended up making out (that's such a weird term. I'd never really thought about it literally. You know, as in getting away with something good. Making out like a bandit). It's all unreal to me. I couldn't stop cracking up, thinking, "I'm sitting in the driver's seat of a car at 4 am in Queens kissing the CSB (do you think it's o.k. to still call someone you're 'dating' the cum sucking bitch? I think it is)." Sitting in the driver's seat, literally and figuratively. Who would've ever guessed? Things like this do not happen to me. They don't. What's going to happen if I start getting all good-natured and feel compelled to write nothing but niceness here?! It goes against the deepest core of my being to positive and blindly happy. I just don't get it. We talked on the phone for 4 hours the other night (he's not a phone chatter), he sent me a sweet email today (he's not one of those just-felt-like-saying-hi email types either), and has asked me if I'll go out with him sun. and next fri. What could I say but yes? I'm starting to think that maybe the end of the world is drawing near. Y2K. Millennium hoopla. I mean it was just 9/9/99. It's the only explanation.9/8/99
My goodness, it's Henry Thomas's 28th birthday and not a single remarkable thing has happened yet today. I came home and there was no mail, no phone messages, and nothing but junk email in my inbox. I would've expected more from such a monumentous date in history. God, I think I'm suffering from encephalitis. I think I may have mentioned how I haven't been able to stop scratching my feet. Well, it's gotten worse this past week where I feel like I have huge bug bites all over my feet, calves, and shins. I say feel like because I've never actually seen any bugs biting me. But it's making me nuts and I had to break down and buy hydrocortisone yesterday in hopes that I'll not turn my legs into bloody stumps from scratching. But anyway, there were a couple cases of malaria at some boy's camp in Long Island last week and now there's this encephalitis epidemic in Queens! Both are caused by mosquitoes, if you didn't know. Three people have died and 48 sick people are under investigation. The news has been saying how it's not deadly unless you're elderly or have a poor immune system (me!) and that the average person may just get symptoms like headaches. I've always got headaches. O.k., I'm being paranoid, but you never know. My brain could be inflamed this very moment and I could very well be hallucinating all this nuttiness that has been transpiring the past few days.9/7/99
I would've put this up sooner, but I haven't had computer access for the past couple days and maybe that's good because I don't even know where to begin with this weekend. First, I think I got payback for making fun of cripples. Sat. afternoon I was in a frenzy tidying up the apt. and when I went to take out the garbage I somehow missed the last one or two steps (I'm not sure which) and fell flat on my face. I still had a scar on my right knee from tripping a couple months ago, and now I'm afraid that knee will never heal. This one was a doozy. It's foul. You know, those giant gaping wounds that won't heal or dry up. It's all wet and pusy even as I type this and it's been 72 hours. So, I've been walking like a cripple and disgusting subway riders with my wet bandages. It's been fun. It's so painful I've only gotten 6 hours sleep in the past two nights. I apologize in advance for the choppy, garbled nature of this entry, but I'm just not focused (for a variety of reasons which I'll get to in a minute). Sat. I was disfigured and then sun. I was getting ready to go out and thought I'd kill two birds with one stone. I put some nachos in the microwave and started blow-drying my hair. All of a sudden the power went out. I assumed I blew a fuse, which really sucks because it's not something I can just fix on my own. This happened before when I was drying my hair and making coffee (I guess the lesson is to concentrate fully on the hair and never combine beauty regimens with food preparation). Of course it's labor day weekend so my landlords aren't home. This little matter did not get resolved til last night. It really sucked to have no fan, TV, lights, and web access. What sucked even more was being in the pitch dark and not being able to find any band aids big enough to cover my knee. I ended up schlepping over to Jessica's and she made a makeshift bandage out of a panty liner and surgical tape. I was horrified and had no intention of walking around Manhattan (Queens, maybe) with a feminine hygiene product stuck to my knee. She won out in the end and I went along with her invention and it actually worked pretty well. But back to other matters--I don't know what to say. I'm speechless for once. O.k., usually I go out with coworkers on fridays, but for some reason everyone had plans this week so I just went straight home. I check my messages and the second one is James Robb, former crush extraordinnaire and even if you're only a casual reader of this crap, you'd have to have caught at least one of my insane obsessive ramblings about this guy. I went nuts and beat myself up over this guy for at least 7 months. It was most unhealthy. So, I'd weaned myself and had set my sights elsewhere on someone so much more appropriate and with so much more in common with me and had chalked it all up to yet another learning experience and promised myself that I'd never get carried away in such a fashion as long as I lived and then there's this message and he's asking me on a "date" and anyone who knows me, realizes this is one of my favorite things to bitch about, being 27 and never have had a proper date so I can only assume that this is some idea he got from reading this website, which is beside the point. No matter where he got it from, it was out of the blue and disturbed me greatly. People that you've not seen or spoken to in ages, who've said things like, "nothing will ever happen with us" and "even the thought of dating stresses me out" should not be ringing you up and asking you to dinner and a movie. I mean I would've been in heaven if this were 2 months ago, but I've taken fancies to other boys, put him out of my mind, and moved on just as was advised by him and just about everyone else I know. Of course I gave going on a date business a whirl (old habits die hard), but I'm weirded out and he's being way too nice, not that that's a bad thing, but I'm not accustomed to it from him (or any other guys for that matter) and I'm waiting for everything to go haywire. I don't know. I mean it's nice to have things go your way and then some. But I don't know if I trust it. I said I always wanted a guy to pick me up in a car (I've always been the one who could drive) but being n.y. that's even more unrealistic, and yet he came out to Queens and picked me up in a car. He brought me 2 dozen pink roses. I don't know that I've ever been given flowers save for the time on Valentine's Day when he picked up some red rose, handed it to me and had the gall to say, "I wish it was a yellow one." That busted my chops. I'm getting too detailed here. It's not so fun writing about someone when they're being nice to you and you know they're going to read what you've written. I prefer calling people sissy faggots and insulting their intelligence behind their backs, thank you very much. This whole new development is really eerie since it's working out almost exactly as I planned months ago. So, we went out again last night and I'll admit that I didn't have a rotten time and I do enjoy his company, but something's different than it used to be. And maybe not in a bad way. I don't feel all sick and nervous and crushy and insecure. It's mutated into something else. Something so potentially disturbing to me that I dare not even dwell on it here. Sometimes life is tougher when things go your way.9/3/99
Today didn't suck either. The ways of the world just never cease to amaze me.One of the most peculiar things in all of 1999 occurred today. Not bad peculiar. The kind of peculiar that leaves you thinking "huh?!" So far, September is entertaining.9/2/99
Today didn't suck.9/1/99
I cannot believe it's already September and that I've been typing this nonsense for a year now. It's frightening how little can change in a year. I was very happy yesterday, the weather has turned all nice and veering towards a fall-like climate. I actually wore a wool sweater on Monday. All the young freshman have been arriving on campus with their parents. Everything has been seeming fresh and frought with possibilities. Then today just sort of sucked. I went to get iced coffee for myself and some coworkers and everyone got bendy straws and I didn't get a straw period. Then I got a call from the dr. and some test had problems and now I need to go to another dr. and I just know I'm going to have cancer or something equally unpleasant. And so I got bummed out and didn't want to eat my usual carrots and pita with hummus lunch. I mean if your days are numbered you might as well eat bad food so I decided to get the greasiest piece of pepperoni pizza I could find and when I got to the place on the corner all the had at the moment was veggie. Now I love veggie pizza, but I wanted the goddamn pepperoni. Then I noticed that my front tooth was chipped. Not severely, but so that it feels jagged on my tongue. It's as if everything was falling apart within a two hour span. Hmm...and I've been trying with all my might to not talk about boys at least for a while, but they really bust my chops. And more and more I realize that they don't even do it on purpose--I just get worked up way too easy and it's my fault for getting all nutty and expectant. For fun I took this E.Q. emotional intelligence test and there were all these questions that you could tell were getting at whether or not you blamed others for your mishaps or impasses or thought you were responsible. And I know good and well that people cause their own turmoil and that it's immature to think the cards are stacked against you. I answered these questions properly and then I still ended up with a low score. I'm not emotionally intelligent--the internet told me so! I've heard that the former crush, James, said something along the lines of, "There's two Kristas. The one who's nice to me in person and the one on her website who hates me." I don't mean to be a backstabber or talk behind people's backs or whatever back idiom is appropriate in this situation. I just don't like people knowing how irked I am with their pointless behavior because they'll think I'm blowing things out of proportion and look insane. Maybe they should know and have it done with. With that said, I had a minor fit this evening because I asked my english email friend if he was going to be home tonight because I was going to call him. I felt bad because he spent 50 pounds talking to me and that's a lot of money. He said to call him and then when I phoned he wasn't there so I left a message to call me and I'd call back and he never did. Why do I care? We're just friends. If any one of my other friends did the same thing I wouldn't even give it a second thought and I'd just speak to them later. This should be no different and yet I'm a little steamed. Will I actually tell this person so? Of course not. He can just read about it months from now and get scared by my emotional unintelligence.