Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Personal

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Time passes quickly on the internet and after spending a few days away i feel as though i’m hopelessly out of the loop. Everyone is back at school and merrily battling against their first week of classes sending us photoless postcards of their experiences for us to savor and scrape for every last detail until the next one is posted. For a moment somewhere in there i had that same sensation of momentum… out of my old apartment, into my new one, settling into my new space, heading out to shop for new decoration… but in the end i seem to have wound up right back where i left off on Friday, which is the same place i’ve been leaving off for months now. Of course, a physical change is really only three weeks away with the start of my third year of classes, but this Drexel-induced time warp doesn’t represent the entire story; even when classes start it won’t be as if i’ve started any huge new adventure – rather just another leg of the same tired journey i’ve been on all along.

Hopefully this year i’ll manage to fit in more detours. In the meantime you can watch my tires spin and spin as i get exactly nowhere, i suppose..

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5481721/

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This morning i woke up before nine and just laid flat cradled between my bed and the slope of the ceiling, watching sunlight and shadows do ballet on my brick wall. My thoughts were racing but my body was in no mood at all. The last two days were long and my body is sortof protesting every move and bend, and no amount of food seems like enough after just eating a piece of pizza and a pretzel and two handfuls of motrin since thursday. Collecting the last remnants of my stuff from the Matt apartment was not a joy, but afterwards i brought my mattress here so i got one of my first comfortable night’s sleep at home in a long time.

My life is at once cluttered and spacious, and so is the fourth floor of this house… a study in controlled clutter starting at the foot of my bed and spread across the entirety of the converted attic. This morning Linsday and I went with Jack to watch his sister play soccer against Drexel, and we were only really a mile up the street from where they used to live but it felt totally different. I feel like i’ve stepped outside of my life and the neighborhood has changed.

Plus, i have my own bedroom and bathroom now :)

This is sortof cheating my no-net weekend, because the old phone line is still up and everyone needed to check their email. So, i’m leaving you a cam picture, and then back off into obscurity i go.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5427546/

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I’m not sure i could quantify our moving just in numbers, or even in words, but it involved five primary housemates, five special guest-lifters, five fabulous locations, one mom with a pre-cooked dinner, and approximately twenty motrin consumed in under four hours by three different people. Oh, and two practically moved into new apartments: one without electricity and the other without a phone. All in all it should make for an interesting weekend. But, speaking of hurdles, now i have to give our powerpoint presentation, empty my old apartment, carry it all up the stairs to my new apartment, and go back to the old apartment to drop off my keys. Oh, and carry my mattress and box spring up to the fourth floor… but i’m trying not to think of that right now.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5404296/

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I’m scattered right now, and i’ll edit this all (somehow) later, but i just wanted to post some moving stuff while it’s fresh.

Yesterday the universe conspired to have a different cosmic actor stand in on my part, and i saw all of the potential i have as a physical being burning through the blinds i usually keep drawn on any amount of tangible power i have.

I have never really been in a physical fight; i often wonder how i’ve managed to avoid it. I was certainly a prime target for picking on all through grade-school and beyond, but i’ve never had to defend myself from anyone before. So, to me, a split knuckle is pretty strange… a wide bloody red grin out at me from my right thumb.

Sometimes i get a violent urge, and it makes me wonder if we’ve all had guerilla warfare hard-coded into our genes. In the same way i went into “Hulk Smash” mode on Wednesday while packing, yesterday i again and again found myself lifting things twice as heavy as anything i’d ever be caught carrying otherwise, and in one instance virtually tossing my stereo down a flight of stairs.

Something else i’ve never really done is a stamina-intensive activity. I’m not exactly lazy: i’ve been known to walk all the way from my apartment to my house carrying bookbags and guitars and things (which is pretty much the span of metro philly – a nice walk), i enjoy pickup games of ultimate frisbee, and riding my bike might be my favourite thing to do outdoors other than sit on a swing. However, i am not someone who’s especially motivated by sporting competition or someone who’s self-motivated to do personally rewarding things like jogging and daily exercising.

What motivates me is a result. This is blatantly obvious at work, where i quickly attend to tasks with a numerical ending point or a specific goal, while ongoing projects like entering folders and proof-reading reports are left to be buried under the mess of my desk. So, asking me to clean or pack when i know i can move whenever i want to is futile, but if you put me up against a deadline and with five other people i turn into captain motivation. That is, i’m at least captain motivation until my legs turn to jelly from shuttling box after box up to the third floor of our new apartment. But, now the job is halfway finished, and i just have to leap a few more hurdles before i am home free.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5404253/