Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

elise

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As quickly as this strange week began it ended with Elise and I fitting two guitars into her backseat ontop of a puzzle of luggage piled ontop of Kat and Jason. I was back up the stairs before they pulled away… maybe in a rush to attempt to write it all down, or maybe not really wanting to see them all leave.

The plan started out simply enough. Kat had no intentions of flying back to California for break, and instead was going to split her time between Jason’s oft-mocked farm somewhere else in Pennsylvania, and Elise’s in New Jersey. The plan was for her to crash here for a night or two inbetween destinations.

Of course, i know better than anyone else that plans change, and then you make other plans. When initial Jason-related plans fell through Kat decided she’d spend a few extra days here, and then Elise decided that she didn’t really want to go home for more than a day or so, which meant that Kat and Elise were effectively staying in my apartment for the entirety of the week. Add Jason driving in to Philadelphia on four separate days to hang out and Kat’s friend Nika flying in from California yesterday morning, and we had a house chock full of people.

Even with my normal roomies and all of their various guests here at any time, i never feel like this house is full. They are rarely my guests, even if they’re my friends, and so i can float in and out of their conversations on a whim to retreat back to my room and play guitar, blog, or sleep. This was different… not only because all of the guests were mine, but because Lindsay and Erika were largely absent for the rest of the week. The result was the bizarro perception that Kat & Elise were my roommates … they have their own roommate interactions down to a science after six months in the dorms, Elise and i have our own special back and forth banter, and Kat and i have a comically natural ease around each other.

So it was a week of living outside of my life while being directly in the middle of it … a week of inside out. A week of making breakfast and dinner, and calling to say when i might be home, and running to the grocery store because we had drank all of the milk. A week of belting out Ani songs with Kat for hours in a row, and of Elise making wry commentary on … well, on just about every silly little thing i’m prone to do on a day to day basis.

Everything’s back to normal now… everyone’s back from their various Spring Break exploits, sitting in my living room basking in the glow of the credits of Jay and Silent Bob. And, you know, for a minute i was a little bit jealous of the fact that none of them spent the entirety of the week in Philadelphia. But, honestly, i had a vacation from my day-to-day existence too, and i didn’t have to pay, fly, or drive to get to it.


My apologies for the many silences i’ve left you with in the last week — hopefully i’ll be back to normal starting tomorrow. If you can call this normal ;)

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/75034035/

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It’s the same old house to me, really, no matter what. I’ve only been here for a little over half a year, but even the slopey ceilings and bare brick walls started losing their effect on me a while ago, and now nothing about it is thrilling. I suppose it’s hard for thrill and comfort to cohabitate in one place for too long, and now it’s just become ‘home’ rather than anything else. It’s a place for me to be weary, and to watch teevee, and to cook dinner. But, this morning we were all in the kitchen having waffles, ice cream, or both, and Elise looked to her left and said “it’s colorful.”


Following her gaze my first thought was that she was just looking out the window at the siding of the house next to us, which is just about anything but colorful — no matter how sunny it might be on the outside. But, it wasn’t the window she was staring at, but its sill. Our kitchen windowsill has become our makeshift house wetbar, and even at its current low tide it’s a cross-sectioned rainbow of apple green Pucker, the deep blue bottles of Skyy and irish cream, and the too clear Smirnoff letting the sun fall right through it.

“Colorful?” I pondered it more than i asked it. I suppose even the most routine of comfortable things are still thrilling in the right light.


A half hour later Kat was framing up a picture of the shadows that our blinds cast against the curtains, with Elise coaching on what to leave out of the edge, and inside it felt like we had rewound back past spring to last summer, and the wonder i had in my eyes at this place when it was empty and unfinished.


I am enjoying all of the seasons i have collected, as much as i am enjoying the spring that has now officially arrived.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/75028150/

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My fan is acting in the place of crickets and i peck as softly as i can at the keys. She yells at me for beating on her keyboard sometimes, because i seem to be under the impression that the harder i type the more effective my words will be. She’s asleep, i think, and here i am being gentler with my own keyboard than i usually am with hers.

The fan is acting in the place of crickets because everything has been rendered silent by the cool air it is pulling in from outside, with just enough chill in it to remind me that it’s not quite spring yet. I love wrapping myself up in that air and my blankets, but i am always sorry for it in the morning when i am redressed in a scratchy throat and dewy skin.

Erika has disappeared for the night. Lindsay has flown off to another state entirely. The neighbor has his lights off and his blinds closed. Kat is across the house from here, silent if not asleep. The fan and my tiny clacking keys are the only sounds in this room other than breath slowly sighing, and when i remember to breathe. It is only me that’s left to tiptoe to my bed, careful not to interrupt this perfect peace i have found myself situated within.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/75015620/

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So, hi, it’s fucking spring outside with a vengeance. I just thought it’d share.

This has just been… whacky, lately. I mean, not to meta-blog more than i typically do, but the whole point of this is what i’m crushing on. It’s about those awkward moments, tremendous failures, and tiny victories. But, what happens when this is my awkward moment? What happens if my life is sailing smoothly elsewhere and this is the moment of doubt and trepidation, where i don’t know what to do or what to say?

Last year i kept Selina a virtual secret from my blog the entire time we dated … i’m not entirely sure why. I know it was because i didn’t like that my friends were coming here for news about my life rather than asking me about it personally. And, i know it was because i wanted to have something all for myself, separate from this. And, i was boring as hell. Now i don’t want to be boring, though, because this isn’t boring. There are things i want to say about it.

So…

::deep breath::

So, today we were walking down the street — me on my way to work and she on her way to an entirely late breakfast — and we were laughing and holding hands and i caught myself thinking dear god, we’re every annoying couple at every party and on every walk down the street that i’ve ever encountered. Somehow, though, from the inside it doesn’t seem so offensive … and it’s something i used to be entirely opposed to; i don’t think it’s the public’s business who i’m kissing at any given point in time — which has a lot to do with not talking about it on here too often, i guess. But, there comes a point when the kiss is more important than who is going to see it.

We usually kiss goodbye on the corner of 33rd and Chestnut, but today she had to walk further down the street and i was still on my way to the Main Building. Kissing her halfway down the block was odd … like i had missed hitting my mark on stage, but that the scene still worked. Worked out perfectly.

It might as well be the first day of spring It definitely feels like it. Do you think so?

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/75014938/