Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

krisis

Krisis has been creating Crushing Krisis since 2000, writing songs since 1996, and reading comics since 1991. He is a Customer Success and Digital Brand Strategy executive, serial organizer, parent, and feminist, among other things. Based in Philly through 2017, he now resides in Wellington, NZ.

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I would just like to share that our initial draft of the departmental intranet site is a Frankenstein of HTML currently sporting hand coded text, dreamweaver coded tables, and the style sheet from Crushing Krisis. Yes, my style sheet, verbatim.

Sorry, i just thought that was hilarious. I just keep picturing someone searching for a publication from last year and getting back some whiny tripe about how the Patient Care Management department sometimes doesn’t think it’s good enough to compete with all the other sections in the provider manual. Although, god help us, if every quilt-like assemblage of design elements took on the behaviors of the many pages that contributed to it, CK would probably make about as much sense as a Dali painting interpreted though the musical stylings of Donovan.

More later.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/05/200328583/

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Recently I’ve had a couple of people tell me that you start to feel old when one of your exes gets married. Of course, I really only have the one ex, and we all more or less lovingly refer to her as the Queen of Darkness, so that particular trauma has already passed for me. I didn’t feel old, though – I think she had been betrothed to the dark side even before she started seeing me.

I guess the thing that makes you feel old when a former significant other ties the knot is that you could have, theoretically, stayed with that person, forcing them to wind up knotting with you rather than some other person. Instead, not only have they successfully replaced you (with their spouse), they are several spins ahead of you in the game of Life.

Despite not having an ex for this to happen to, this weekend someone told me something that still managed to make me feel old in that same way – only a little bit different. Because, you see, I found out that a girl who I had never even kissed got married.

Of course, if I was counting the social evolution of every girl I ever had a crush on but never kissed against my own I would have to have some sort of leader board hung in my room to keep track of it all. In fact, this girl is a little bit different because I could have kissed her. I really almost did – as I remember it, we were all lined up for the moment, lips aimed and everything. We didn’t kiss, though. I didn’t kiss her because she was seeing a very nice boy who she seemed to like a lot, and I didn’t want to make myself a chink in their relationship’s armor.

I didn’t kiss her, even though I wanted to, and wound up thinking about it for the rest of the week, hovering by my computer in case she sent me a message of any kind. I’ve talked to her since, hugged and laughed with her, slept on her couch, and rode in her car.

I haven’t heard from her lately, though; we haven’t spoken in months. But, this weekend at our (yet-to-be-blogged-about) cast party, a friend of hers who was in town stopped by to say hello, and she off-handedly informed me that this girl, who I never even kissed, got married. Married to the boy that kept me from kissing her.

It’s not quite the same feeling of being old. Instead, as her friend’s words reached my ears, they manifested as a strange quiver in my stomach. Something about fate? Or karma? Would that kiss have made a difference? Would she have really kissed me if I had leaned in? Would I have been a bad person for doing it? Could it have ever even happened In the first place? Would I be who I am today if it had?

I really ought to save the tough questions until after lunch, huh?

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/05/200321905/

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No one here understands why the giant, black, dragon-shaped cloud hovering over South Philly is freaking me out… i guess i’ll just let them think that i have a paranoid fear of my house burning down.

I mean, otherwise i’d have to reveal my secret identity, and that would just be bad form.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/05/200316924/

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Which is funny, in an ironic way, because this weekend i was telling someone about Crushing Krisis, and i had this overwhelmingly clear moment where i remembered my original conception of it, how everything in the world is pressing against me and that i am in the middle slowly asphyxiating but at the same time slowly pushing back against it all with all the pressure i can bring to bear, and how it is all just crushing in both directions, and whatever is still breathing in the end wins.

So maybe it was a dream about blogging.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/05/200316301/

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Dreams amalgamate my life and the inside of my head, suspending my disbelief by showing me what I want to happen. Sky has been a part of a lot of my dreams as of late; the Philadelphia skyline mapped in perfect three-dimensional detail.

Last night I found myself staring out from my IBC cubical view — I saw a strange dark swirling cloud dominating the distant skyline. Something struck me about that cloud — drew me to it, so out of place against the otherwise blue horizon. And, suddenly, the reinforced windows surrounding my floor were gone and I reached out my hand to meet fresh air, thirty-five floors about the ground.

Stepping up onto my desk, and then onto the window sill, I leapt out into the open expanse, the wind catching my body and propelling it upwards, ever upwards. I flew up to meet the blackness, only to find that like a passing plane it was ever higher than I thought. Half pushing against the increasingly distant ground, half pulling myself up towards its swirling vortex, I soon was close enough to see into its oily form.

Face to face with it, I found that it was not a dark cloud, but a nightmare, a nothing, a black bull hidden inside a swirling lightening storm. And I flew into its heart, striking out wildly against the air all around me, only to be driven down towards the earth by its horrible breath. Plummeting endlessly, like Gandalf and the Balrog. Unable to orient myself towards the great beast and push back against its power, slamming into the ground and whipped by sharp streams of rain, it combined unbearable pressure and swirling wind to tear the breath right out of me.

I remember it tumbling walls down around me, feeling the snap of ribs giving way against the onslaught and debris, and my last gasp for air as people shouted in the background, alarmed that I might be defeated outright. And i was.

Just because I am a superhero in my dreams does not mean I always win.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/05/200316143/