I remember long long ago, yesterday morning, when it was not freezing cold.
I swear NY1 used the word Nor'easter to describe todays weather.
Somewhere between 6am and 9am I realized a couple of things.
One: I was still sort of drunk and moderately pukey and there was no Orangina left in *my mug.
*which by the way is the greatest mug in history, and when I say MY mug I am lying because its not mine but I wish it was.
Two: The rain was super intense and the thunder was scaring me.
Anyway I did something a bit out of the ordinary last night, I went to a photo show and actually found myself really interested in all of the work.
I realize its been said before, but America is crazy. Really.
This was a photo slide show with some great music accompanying it.
I guess it was about 45 minutes long and it was captivating the whole time!
I don't know a lot about photographers, but I went with Katie and she told me that these people in this show are quite revered.
I was blown away, especially by the work of Eugene Richards and Brenda Ann Kenneally
Beautiful and devastating.
Not much else to say, the work speaks for itself.
Enough of that highfalutin; I know nothing about nothing in terms of this stuff
I am having a really hard time thinking and then typing and making sure it comes out it a way that makes sense.
I think I actually just need to eat pizza. Its like a brain bandaid for me.
So after the projection thing there was a bluegrass band playing, the singer is a friend of Katies and she has a lovely voice.
They sang some really fantastic covers. I liked when they did Jolene.
I did not like it when they sang the Thong Song.
dumps like a truck?
Anyway, the night found a way to become typically Krissy when I gave my ATM card to run a tab and there was no money on it. I thought I had like 30 dollars, but that was totally a lie to myself.
Heres Katie getting a beer on the tab which can not be paid for.
Don't worry frowny bartender, we won't be coming back.
Four or six drinks later I get the card with a bill, she says it didn't go through. I say I'm going to get another card to pay, take my drink outside to finish it, and disappear.
Great job asshole.
Thanks god my "its complicated" person was home like 3 blocks away.
Because I definitely didn't have money for a cab.
Then I tried to watch True Blood and wore these glasses which made my entire skull hurt.
I would like to mention, I, unlike my complicated one, am not hip enough to wear things like this.
It just doesn't have the same effect.
I sort of just look like a sad jewish rabbit. I say jewish only because at that angle I remind myself of a very jewwy person I know. I think its the overwhelming forehead and nose.
I'm not being anti-semite everyone knows I fucking love jews.
I feel like this whole thing is going somewhere I'm not comfortable.
I really am not ready for pictures of me in Complicated's room wearing Complicated's glasses talking about loving jews.
I feel like its a window into a world of secrecy.
Get out of my secrets.
(people with blogs don't really have the right to bitch about secrets and windows and privacy and hush hush but some things just have limits)
(this is one of those things)
Maybe I should just move on.
Here is something about graffiti I love.
Hi, why would someone write that??
First of all, I read it and had all these Feelings!!
I was like
Don't you say that about Jack he was a good Catholic boy and he was probably giving Marilyn that snuggly lovebird stuff.
I bet he sent her tons of flowers.
I bet that had lots of role play sex with costumes.
Is that taking it too far?
But I could see them getting absolutely shit housed on some vsop and having fantastic little romps.
But then again.
Maybe he did have her killed.
Maybe she was one of those women who knows the dude is married and not available. But she still called the White House private line at 4am like Jackie baby I miss you. Then she would start crying and threaten to take every pill in the medicine cabinet if he didn't come over right away.
That could be enough to make anybody wanna kill a bitch.
Perilous waters of love.
Ships at sea, such a churning unpredictable sea.
Stephanie and I have a habit of comparing love to water and calling people ships. Or boats. Or canoes. Whatever they happen to be more like.
Oh Jane. You have had your rowboat tied to this dock for so long now that the waters have eroded too too much of you. You need to cut that rope and float away from the lake of despair and paddle to a great river of truth and passion. Cmon now girlfriend.
(this is what you say to Jane when you don't want to say, hey your boyfriend is the ill dickhead. please stop fucking him immediately.
On a sort of related note,
Katie bought this sexy book for me in Mexico.
I hope she stops "sort of" living there and decides to just live here.
I also hope someone buys me art supplies for Christmas so I can pump out some illustrations like this one.
Its pretty horrible and I love it.
Being a nanny is amazing when the parent you work for gets their two year old son a guitar and he sits on Rody the blue horse and plays it.
They he throws it on the floor and walks away.
Because fuck guitars!
More not horrible:
My niece wearing an I LOVE HORSES shirt.
Thats funny, cause me too!
I would like to end with a prayer.
Please stop stuffing my life with adorable babies.
I appreciate your efforts but its all too much right now.
Also thanks for inventing Italy because I love pizza.
I am going to order some right now and its going to be really delicious.
In closing, you are really funny and cool and I'm really excited that you created me in your image.