Hi Waaaaayne.....Hiiiiiiii.

I just touched my cat's butt by accident and I'm really disgusted by it.

Something else I'm disgusted by is the state my legs are in.
I look like a teenage runaway who lives under a bridge and has a vitamin deficiency.
I have been tearing up South Street on my bike as well as having too many drinks and aggressively dragging said bike up and down stairs and such.
That explains the severely bruised ankles/calves/thighs.
I have this super irritated shredder cut that looks kind of like a tiger tried to climb up my limb. Its is a little swollen and still fairly dirty.
I fell. That's the whole story.


So today Claude, my cognitive behavioral therapist/new best friend told me in jest that I should tattoo 'I don't date losers' on the palm of my hand to serve as a personal reminder.
We talked for at least 20 minutes about the fact that I specifically chose to continue seeing men who I am FULLY AWARE are unavailable.
AKA substance abusers, cheaters, jobless drifters, emotionally invested in other women, depressed, etc etc etc.
To be totally honest, this is something I swear to God, I didn't know I was doing.
Heres a sample of how blind I am:

Claude: What exactly do you want from ____?
Me: I think I have no idea what I want. I think I wish things would just be happy and awesome. The men I like, they are actually good people, seriously Claude.
Claude: OK. Good. Are they available?
Me: No.
Claude: OK. So you have to stop seeing them. Cut it off. Its OK for things to just not work out. No one is a 'loser' we are just humans. You are not picking losers, you are just being *MALADAPTIVE.
Me: But that means I don't win.
(THAT IS VERBATIM. VERBATIM)
Claude: Riiiight. So you're winning right now? I mean... wouldn't winning be dating people who want to be with you? And respect you? And are ready?
Me: What? This is stupid. I win if I make it work.
Claude: Guess what. You just made my job easier. Repeat yourself outloud. See how it sounds.
Me: Oh shit.

Aaaaaand SCENE.
Tada!
Then he gave me some exercises to do and things to research and looked at me like a little gnome and wiggled his glasses and said, "Its all about the path. Thats all. Just the path."
That gave me a panic attack but I settled down and was fine.
Great Job.

*Maladaptive behaviors refer to types of behaviors that inhibit a person’s ability to adjust to particular situations. This type of behavior is often used to reduce one’s anxiety, but the result is dysfunctional and non-productive. For example, avoiding situations because you have unrealistic fears may initially reduce your anxiety, but it is non-productive in alleviating the actual problem in the long term.

Enough about that for now.
Here's some things me and Gob did together recently.

(not this Gob)




Gob and I looking at the river while weird Chinese people fish and set things on fire.


Gob and I looking out at machinery and dome as pictured below.




Awkward running father who did not understand that one would need wind in order to successfully fly a kite.
Men alone with children is interesting because of their completely sporadic fits of logic. Its there...then its not? Oh here eat this popsicle for breakfast. What? You refuse to now eat these eggs? Why???
Lets fly a kite! Shit, there is no wind. I guess I'll just walk around with you with no water and long sleeves on this very hot afternoon until your mother gets home.
Shrug.
I love men, I do. And the idea of a loving father, a fun father...its a Dream. Its special!
But.
Lets face it.
Theres a reason why kids think dads are fun and moms are pests.
Somebody has to be the pest or every kid in the world would have rotten teeth, dirty faces, infected fingies and weird brown bag lunches with little to no nutritional value.
I generalize because its funny.


Death is part of life.
But maggots eating squirrel eyes is still gross.
FDR is literally killing it.
(ba-dum CHHHH!)


Tank top balding sandals guy and his giant turtle, who may in fact be his romantic lover.
PS the turtle lives in a boat house.
Baller.

This has nothing to do with my bike rides, but please look at this man on the train.

His toupee was SO UNBEWEAVABLE in person.
It looks like a hair hat!
I have never seen anything like it.
It was so shiny and wiggish and his little remaining wiry gray hairs poked out all around its border.
He also had the weirdest kit I have even seen, dirty denim with elastic waist and cuffs?
One velcro shoe one with laces?
A fucking confetti party time pattern umbrella?
An expensive-ish watch?
I'm pretty sure hes one of those people who tries to sell you free things like copies of the Onion or 'appraisal on air conditioning unit installing' coupons he got in the mail. Super Saver!
He probably also eats people.

The opposite of scary train guy is this kid, who I met at Stephanies bday BBQ.


He was really good at scrounging our food and also tried to plant an avocado pit in the dirt so the park could have a fruit bearing tree.
I gave him bubbles and a pop ice.
Then I played ball with him.
His face makes me happy so I am going to go to bed before something ruins it.

Arr-vwar, creeps!

Fridays never were all that dope

Warning:

If you talk to me today tomorrow or anytime soon, I will probably say something I don't mean.

I have thrown my cats numerous times today.

I have maybe never been this randomly angry in my whole life.


So at least the Beware is on the table.

Its like one of those Tshirts people get on vaca that say "No Rulez"

Ugh what a god damn hassle.
Why I am blogging all early is beyond me, I think its because I'm hungry therefor can't sleep therefor must run my mouth in some fashion and it just so happens there is no one to talk to right now.

Sew.
Last night I went to dirty ass stink Bodega in Bushwick, greatest hood in the world second to Chinatown.
Why is Bushwick any good?
Because all you see there is delis and train tracks and shithole buildings that people in their 20s can afford to live in, thats why.
Anydirtbag,
Bodega is precious if you ask me.
Ed is a total dick, so of course he would open an establishment where the 'bar' looks like this:



Good thing Ed is sort of hot, because he also looks like the god damn devil.
Red hair is terrifying in a 'do me' way.
People with red hair always have creep eyeballs and they are typically spastic and completely all over the place at all times.

Satan texts!!!!
(XO Ed)
Sidenote. Ed is a really good hugger, like picks you up to embrace you.
That is something all men should do because it makes girls feel petite and appreciated.
Thats just a tip for you assholes who dun know how to make a lady feel guuuuhd.


It was about 60 degrees yesterday so we got to wear spring gear aka not really coats


The whole reason I went was because Japanther and Spank Rock and Ninjasonik were 'playing' aka making mad noise. But it turns out that shithole is fun probably no matter what?
Basically every three seconds I would turn around and see someone I never see anymore.
AKA dudes I used to see when I had a dumb boyfriend.
Hi Guys!


Hi Peter.


Hi Soner, Hi _____
Friend on the right got all assed out about me taking pictures...
Oh ok, I just won't write your name because you're mad secretive about nothing.
I heart you anyway. Sort of.


Now that I recollect, there were tons and tons of men everywhere.
JK, boys.
You know men don't go to Japanther shows.
Psht.
Oh. More PS.
Shouts to the dumb bitch at the 'door' who fucking threw out my bottle of booze when I re-entered at like midnight after smoking a cigarette.
Hey guess what. I hate you. No one cared when my bag got checked at 930. You're a pain in my ass. Also, this shit is not a Pratt party circa 2002. Chill.

Long story long, me and Mollah and Denise had lots of fun and sort of danced and I fell off of some kind of speaker.
Also MegaBeth showed up looking super hot which kind of annoyed me because then I felt slightly less attractive in general.
(Mega if you're reading this which I know you are, send me those pictures of us you made people take. Theeeinks.)

Speaking of how I looked.

Lets talk about me.
If one more dude has the retardation audacity to comment on my hair I'm going to slam him in the balls.
Just because I am wearing braids does not mean you ever have the right to pull on them
and say any of the following:

"Heeeey Pocahontaaassssss"
"Oh damn Pippi"
"Hey how old are you???"

If you need to get my attention by being a stupid asshole, you simply show me that you are in fact a stupid asshole.
That means I will never touch your dumb body, or pay any mind to you, or give a shit about your presence in my reality. Please grow up and do not approach me, period. I hope that one day you realize girls hate to be annoyed. Well, I lie, girls like to be annoyed, but only when you are being super witty and adorable.
Shout outs to dudes who did not touch my hair. XO!


I think its pretty amazing how prepared we came.
Molleh flask of tequila, Krisseh flask of vodka, D flask of whiskey.
Kidding?
You wish.






Eds gay lover/bear daddy Andy.
Jking they aren't gay they're just 'close'
Andy always makes me smile because hes absurdly short yet macho.
Adorbs.


I am always intrigued with dungeon status.


This was a double U Tee Eff moment where a bunch of flashes went off on other peoples cameras and I was actually capable of sort of documenting the situation upstairs.

Ninjasonik leads to complete anarchy, I think it has something to do with the fact that they are hip black dudes.
It's like a rule, white BK kids have to start thrashing around punching eachother freaking out because they get so absurdly excited about black guys shouting into microphones over nice beats.
I got elbowed maybe 400 times over the course of 10 minutes.

Its really classic of me to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and Molleh is pretty much the same way so we both randomly skipped out to go home.
Somehow Sam gets worked into that equation and immediately starts bitching about wanting a sandwich.

Screw face complainey snarl.


Then these raging dbags walk in and start saying 'oh hey we were just at the same spot as you wahh wahh wahh meeh mehhhhh mehhhhhhhhhh.'
So Molleh took a picture with them for the sole purpose of me having proof that they are actually wearing Rambo style bandanas with the faces of innocent English schoolboys.
Relax friends, this is not tuff guy territory you don't have to work so hard.
You look like god damn extras for a community production of The Warriors.


I tried to force Sam to get a turkey sandwich which is the cure for all ailments but he was totally stupid and got ham and swiss.
Ew.
I still ate some but thats not the point.
Ham?
Cmon.

Whatever else happened is none of your business because it got all late but heres Molleh with pants that match the walls in her apt buildings baller basement.


Great Job, Wednesday. You really know how to show and improve.

Great Job morning edition

This morning I am realizing sometimes you just have to give up.
This applies to many facets of existence, but today I was reminded of this truth of all truths based on a struggle with my sock.

Since the dawn of the skinny jean, hipsters, fashionistas and copycats like me alike have been wondering how to get their socks on in the winter with said denims.

I am a huge fan of the weather apprope sock. Hi, its January. Wear a thick sock.
So yeah, if you're one of those people who thinks before they act, you put the sock on first, then you put the jeans on, and its only a slight torture getting that tiny foot hole up around your heel then ankle.

Other scenario...
you are me.
You do NOT think before doing anything at all.

You pu on your jeans, then go rummaging through your giant bag of laundry trying to find the winter thickness of sock.
Oh, nbd, heres some ABOVE THE KNEE SOCKS.
Really?
Perfect.
First I'll scrunch them with that weird tights-prep hand wiggle thing, then try to shimmy them on my foot and over the jeans.
Maybe I should cuff the jean because everything is getting mad bunchy etc?
Herm, skinny jeans do not cuff well.
Ok, so the sock will just have to be scrunchy.
Actually no because the feeling of tight jean plus about a thousand yards of sock around my lower leg area is giving me a panic attack.


Don't worry.
Now I'm late for work.

Tail Talk

So I'm pretty hyped on the idea of humans having tails.
I have thought about it for a few years now.
I think as a species we could totally use an extra appendage.
I would want a purple one I think.
I was saying to Pam and Olivia and Stephanie (and not really Hiyme)
that I think there would be a lot of markets based around the tail.
Special clothes.
Accessories.
Movies/shows about tail based situations.
Psychiatrists would write all kinds of books about tail theories like WHY people did certain things with their tails, 'tail language' etc.
If you were drunk your tail would droop.
There would be products for tail hygiene.
It would be amazing.
I am absolutely certain there would be creepy tail sex fetishists.
HBO would probably make a torrid series about it in due time.
There would be photographers who based entire series of their work on tail imagery.
There would be a separate realm of molesters called tail touchers.
If I had my tail right now I would swat my cat with it because she has been in my face since the minute I walked in the door.
I would actually swat both my cats with my tail all day long.
We would have tail fights.
I would not fight them when they look like this.

Hugs!

The only really awful thing is that it would be super easy for weirdos to catch you if you had a tail. They could just grab it from behind and drag you away and I'll bet it would hurt.
They would have to make public service announcements telling you to tuck your tail if you're out walking alone at night.

Granted, its been 23 million years since 'we' had tails, but a girl can dream.
And I don't mean I want a fleshy peepee looking thing above my booty



I want like....a long swishy magical looking tail with a little tuft of golden hair at the bottom.
Ugh.
I'm done.

Wait, I'm not done.
Please look at this deformed tiger.



Speaking of deformed.
This is how I feel after I watch politic debates:


In closing, I want to light this guy on fire.

One side of his sign says Will Freestyle Rap For You.
The other says he can read your fortune.
How about freestyle fortune reading?
How about you go jump off a cliff you dirty hippie.

If my shitty attitude left you with a bad taste in your mouth I suggest you watch a video of one of my favorite songs ev.

I'm hardly kidding.



You know you're cry-smiling.

Change Your Clocks.

Don't forget that!

Time is going by, things are happening.

I broke my phone long ago and it has been holding out for a couple months now, sometimes working, sometimes not. i basically bought it because I wanted 2MP camera and the radio capabilities. So i got the genius idea...maybe the next phone I get, I should buy it for CALLING PEOPLE.

Then I went on ebay and somehow ended up with this:


LG Shine!

Its called the Shine because its fucking shiny. The screen is literally a mirror. Sometimes when I buy things like this I realized I really truly am a girl and there is nothing I can do about it.
This is not a phone a man would buy.
Because in 5 minutes it will be covered in fingerprints and sour cream and onion chip dust.
Something will inevitably crack and I will be so pissed off I will want to kill myself.
Because when this phone stops being shiny, what is it?
Just another thing I bought that I hate.
I got it because its pretty, ok? So three months from now when I spill a beer on it or drop it in the bathtub while I'm gossiping with TallyDeadDead, don't feel bad for me at all.
I did this to myself.

I need phone numbers too, by the way. Which is a task I truly hate.
Who do you even ask for numbers from?
There is bound to be at least a few awkward moments trying to refill the phone book. Not only that, some people will really think that I want their number when I totally don't. And I'm a shit liar so I will probably just end up being like, nah I'm good. Really. Thanks though.


So lets get personal.
Then lets get physical.
Then lets get outta town.

I am a bit unfamiliar with the feeling, but I am almost embarrassed about my actions lately. (See most recent blog entry for reasons)
I go through these very absurd phases where I definitely drink too much and I stop being dependable and kind and I have one foot out the door of the acceptable behavior universe. I start to do things without thinking about how it effects the people around me and then when I get yelled at, I turn into a serious fucking jerk and fall back on the definitive Krissy statement, "Go fuck yourself i don't need your annoying ass anyway. Kick rocks pal."
You can interchange those words with other words, but its always the same idea which is: Yes I see youre mad, no I don't care, and in a way, its funny to me.
I usually don't mean it, but I am prettttay pretttay convincing when I am in the mood.

Unfortunately for the poor souls who I emotionally abuse at times, I do not believe in therapy. i don't want to be a Pavlovs dog, I don't want to be taught "new innovative ways" to shut the fuck up and be an adult. I don't want "external support without judgement" or an "impartial ear."
Because I see that as the great manipulation.
To be listened to by a stranger. And they give you that calm look. But behind that there are calculations going on, so clinical that you stop being a human and you become a problem for someone else to solve. I am not a Rubiks cube, I'm just an immature jerk. Thats really it.

So as I have said before, and will surely say again. I. am a work in progress.

And one day I won't just be a jokester. i will also be fully humbled and openminded and considerate. And I reeeeeeally reeeeeally think I can do that.


I promise.
But for now, give me a break.
(Insert Kit Kat bar reference here)

Deeper still.
If you have the patience time or desire, i suggest you read this. I suppose it is where my reflection stems from as of late. I know people HATE to read things on blogs that are not about sex/fun/parties/gossip/being hip but I still want to share it, because I have been reading it over for awhile now and its something I want to bring to the table.

QUESTIONS TO AND COMMENTS BY SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI:
Atyashrami, teacher, poet, self inquiry advocate


What is the path of inquiry for understanding the nature of the mind?


That which rises as 'I' in this body is the mind. If one inquires as to where in the body the thought 'I' rises first, one would discover that it rises in the heart. That is the place of the mind's origin. Even if one thinks constantly 'I' 'I', one will be led to that place. Of all the thoughts that arise in the mind, the 'I' thought is the first. It is only after the rise of this that the other thoughts arise. It is after the appearance of the first personal pronoun that the second and third personal pronouns appear; without the first personal pronoun there will not be the second and third.




How will the mind become quiescent?


By the inquiry 'Who am I?'. The thought 'who am I?' will destroy all other thoughts, and like the stick used for stirring the burning pyre, it will itself in the end get destroyed. Then, there will arise Self-realization.




What is the means for constantly holding on to the thought 'Who am I?'


When other thoughts arise, one should not pursue them, but should inquire: 'To whom do they arise?' It does not matter how many thoughts arise. As each thought arises, one should inquire with diligence, "To whom has this thought arisen?". The answer that would emerge would be "To me". Thereupon if one inquires "Who am I?", the mind will go back to its source; and the thought that arose will become quiescent. With repeated practice in this manner, the mind will develop the skill to stay in its source. When the mind that is subtle goes out through the brain and the sense-organs, the gross names and forms appear; when it stays in the heart, the names and forms disappear. Not letting the mind go out, but retaining it in the Heart is what is called "inwardness" (antar-mukha). Letting the mind go out of the Heart is known as "externalisation" (bahir-mukha). Thus, when the mind stays in the Heart, the 'I' which is the source of all thoughts will go, and the Self which ever exists will shine. Whatever one does, one should do without the egoity "I". If one acts in that way, all will appear as of the nature of Siva (God).




Are there no other means for making the mind quiescent?


Other than inquiry, there are no adequate means. If through other means it is sought to control the mind, the mind will appear to be controlled, but will again go forth. Through the control of breath also, the mind will become quiescent; but it will be quiescent only so long as the breath remains controlled, and when the breath resumes the mind also will again start moving and will wander as impelled by residual impressions. The source is the same for both mind and breath. Thought, indeed, is the nature of the mind. The thought "I" is the first thought of the mind; and that is egoity. It is from that whence egoity originates that breath also originates. Therefore, when the mind becomes quiescent, the breath is controlled, and when the breath is controlled the mind becomes quiescent. But in deep sleep, although the mind becomes quiescent, the breath does not stop. This is because of the will of God, so that the body may be preserved and other people may not be under the impression that it is dead. In the state of waking and in Samadhi, when the mind becomes quiescent the breath is controlled. Breath is the gross form of mind. Till the time of death, the mind keeps breath in the body; and when the body dies the mind takes the breath along with it. Therefore, the exercise of breath-control is only an aid for rendering the mind quiescent (manonigraha); it will not destroy the mind (manonasa).


Like the practice of breath-control, meditation on the forms of God, repetition of Mantras, restriction on food, etc., are but aids for rendering the mind quiescent.