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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You never know how your first fight will end. You could be in the most idealic relationship ever, perfect and smiling and doting and happy, and a single fight could tear it all down. Maybe she cries too much or isn’t rational, or maybe you speak without thinking or are cold-hearted. I can’t imagine how you could predict that sort of thing; what the fight would be about, why, how it would end. Sure, you could be optimistic and just hope it’s trivial and that it leads to make-up sex, but how realistic is that, really?

So, maybe i picked a fight on Sunday. I think maybe we both did. The problem seems to be that we have nearly the exact same ambition, except i am all optimism with my assuming it’ll be alright, and she’s all pessimism and striving to make her goals come to her. Of course, pitting an optimist and a pessimist who both want to write for a living, act for fun, and be rock stars against each other is never too beautiful. Everything wound up fine, though, which was good, because after crying on the floor for an hour tonight i needed someone to talk to.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2174343/

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Got up. Went to class. Went to work. Got home. Listened to my messages. Laid in the middle of the floor and cried. Skinned my knuckle punching the wall. Cried. Put “1,000 Oceans” on infinite repeat. Clung to the stereo and sobbed like a child. Went to rehearsal. Love y’all, really i do.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2172472/

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A song about love, in 3/4. One strum per beat, one chord per measure, four measures per line. Dm, then C, then Dm again, and so on. It needs something more, though…

love finds a way
and it winds its way
into your heart
that's where it starts
burrows in to you
funny how it chooses
don't know how you fell in
there's so many losers

first sight that you got
hit you like a shot
there's simplicity
in her beauty
you try to hide it
but we all know it's there
don't disguise it
lay your heart out bare

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2126187/

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I had to sing in rehearsal today, without my guitar. Scary stuff. Another tuner popped off of it a few days ago in the middle of trying to record a Trio, so i finally gave in and sent the poor thing to the shop for a bit of maintenance. Afterwords, Gina and I went on a mad guitar shopping spree where nothing was actually bought but lots of things were touched and ‘ooohed’ at. But, i might not spend money on a new guitar, because i want to go here.

For those not in the know, the South by Southwest Conference is sortof a point of convergence for all sorts of hip folks in the realms of internet and music, and, as it turns out, ten or more SurvivorBloggers of past and present are planning on attending and throwing some wicked hotel parties. Yeah. So, aside from the fact that i’m gonna get hit on more than a 5-year old boy at a MAMBA convention, it seems like it’d be a nice break before finals. Of course… to go to the music & internet portions of the festival i’d have to stay straight through my finals week, which would be a little iffy to plan now seeing as i don’t know when my finals will be. But, either way, i might be going to Texas! Yee-haw!

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2126036/

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So, yeah, theatre. First i bitched about it, and then i got sucked into it, and here i am bitching about it again. I don’t like to act. Maybe i’m good at it, and maybe i’m not, but i only really like the attention i get and being able to stand on a stage above everyone else. That’s it, though. And, yet, somehow i’ve managed to have rehearsal every night and a song i have to arrange and sing and now i’ve got to learn how to method-act my hand being crippled for half of the show. And i have to learn how to scream.

I’m thinking that last bit won’t be to hard. In the show i get struck hard with a hot curling iron, and it both breaks the bones in my hand and burns me badly. My director keeps trying to give me suggestions on how i could perfect this prolonged scream of anguish and despair, some of which were: “Haven’t you ever put your hand into a fire before?” “Go home and try pouring hot wax on yourself. I can give you some pointers on sensitive spots to try.” “Stick your head into an oven later! And make sure to vocalize through the pain.”


Good direction, isn’t it. It’s like in high school … i had to play these two brief minutes of being drunk, and i just didn’t know how to do it. I was straightedge, i was innocent, and i had no idea what alchohol did to human body. My director coaxed and fixed and pointed and when it came time for performance i still looked like some foolish kid who was a little bit dizzy. In retrospect, he should’ve just bought me a bottle of vodka and let me learn the easy way. So, i’m off to find some hot wax… yum.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2110463/