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 happen to really need a razor. Like, alot. I am down to my last disposable razor, and it seems to have lost it’s sheen. This is not to say i suddenly have some sort of mutant five o’clock shadow or anything of the kind, but i definitely start looking like a gang-member if i don’t shave in any given 36-hour period. It all would seem to add up … lack of razor, razor in the checkout aisle, me with a large margin between the price of eggs and saran wrap and the $20 i have in my hand. But, do i buy the razor? The shiny, new, rubber-grip, extra-blade, sleek, black, razor? Do i?

Of course not. Why? Because i am too embarrassed to pick up a razor and have it rung in the middle of a supermarket. I might get away with it at CVS, where they deal regularly in those sorts of things, but i feel like if i had attempted to buy it last night the cashier would’ve responded in the fashion of “Damn, boy, if you’re gonna buy your daddy a razor for Christmas least you could do would be get him an electric.” Or, you know, something else to that incredibly embarrassing and demeaning effect.

I’m afraid to buy men’s toiletry products in public. God help us all if i ever have to go and buy condoms*.

It’s just as if i’m done being a boy, and we all know i’m not a boy anymore, but the Man-Fairy will not come down and wave his magic wand to make the whole thing official so i can do things like buy shaving cream, or fuzzy-handcuffs, or anything else a man might buy.

I mean, i…. um, did i just say Man-Fairy? With his magic wand? Was i seriously blogging about that for, like, an entire second there?

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/7924530/

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I have become totally domesticated in my living with the gals. It’s not as though it bothers me, but i just feel like they’re intruding upon my messy bachelor years, or something. For example, yesterday i actually called home from work to see what they would prefer my nighttime culinary endeavor to be. So, not only did i premeditate my potential meal (based upon leftover supplies from the dinner i made on Tuesday!), but i decided that i needed to clear it with the roomies before i made the decision on my own. Sadly, I didn’t catch either of them, and seeing as i had the sneaking suspicion that one of them was highly alarmed by eggplant i refrained from shopping for the supplies i had in mind until i got a verbal “okay” from them. After a few hours of lounging on the couch when i should’ve really been doing the Business final i’m taking a break from now i was greeted by Erika, who came bearing groceries of her own! I started helping her with dinner until we realized that we were out of eggs, and so off i went (in my pajamas) to the grocery store — without a second thought.

It seems likes common courtesy or just being thoughtful roommates, but i really feel as though i’ve gone from being one of those cats that the neighbors leave food out on their porch for to being a house cat that occasionally struts around the lawn just to affirm his outdoorsyness. It’s not that it bothers me or anything, i just think it’s incredible what a difference a year makes; this time last year i was spending $60 a week on takeout food and eating a box or two of granola bars every weekend. Now i’m spending $60 a week on making dinner for the three of us, and eating leftovers all weekend.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/7924253/

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We were on the highway last night before ten. Melon was telling me about her ex-roommate from hell but i found myself increasingly distracted by the fog — everything outside was drizzle and fog. We were coming back to Philly, and on the driver’s side of the car past the divider all there was to see was fog and diffuse white light bleeding down from the poles above — as if the road were suspended hundreds of feet in the air with nothing on either side of it.

The three of us were driving into sky, and i was tucked into the back seat, back to listening to Melon, thinking “it’s not so bad after all.”

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/7911232/

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In case you haven’t noticed, i’ve been pretty musical this past week. In fact, with the exception of the 36hours i spent out of the house i’ve recorded something every day since the debut of “Tangled,” and i don’t seem to be showing any signs of slowing down.

When it come right down to it, I still don’t really understand myself when it comes to songwriting. I don’t know why i do it; i do it now because i’m used to doing it — it’s something i do. I suppose i only ever started doing it because Gina took one of my few poems and set it to music, and i thought “hmmm… there’s an idea.” Even the idea to buy a guitar was something that sortof materialized, and i’m frankly still quite shocked that my mom even acknowledged it. The first songs i wrote were rudimentary — scavenged from the handful of chords i knew from songs i had been learning; i rarely ever play them now as a nod to both their immaturity in lyricism and composure. The first song i wrote where i knew what i wanted it to sound like was “Afterglow,” and in the months between that and my at-the-time masterpiece “World In My Hand” i had created that rock-arena in my head where i was on stage and people were watching… people who had favorite songs, who got my silly comments about tuning, and who would want an encore. In the back of my first poetry notebook i have a few pages devoted to these imaginary set-lists that i would devise every few days … now an interesting way to track what songs i played the most and how much i liked them.

What’s so different about Trio, really? I know for sure that i listen to Trio more than anyone else does, mostly because for me it’s a practice take that i can actually learn and grow from. But, why do i do it, and do it so regularly and fanatically? Why do i post my portfolio-mp3s to the page and leave a mostly-empty comment box up for them? Why do i bother to extensively provide an online discography in the song archive? Why do i talk about it all over and over again as if i have some large and attentive audience who follows all of my comments about the evolution of songs and how Weezer’s artistic development makes me cry?

I suppose for the same reason i keep on writing this : obsessively back-linking and spell-correcting posts from three weeks ago and worrying about what i’m going to write about and what will be in the next Trio. Despite obsessive stat- and bandwidth- tracking i still couldn’t really tell you how many people read me every day, or if more than three or four people listen to Trio or download mp3s that i post. I suppose i do them both for the illusion … the the illusion that my voice has escaped the vacuum that is the brick and plaster of my room … that maybe somewhere there is someone i don’t know at all listening with a half grin, humming along.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/7872506/