Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Personal

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Well, after working here for nearly a month it would seem that i’ve been fit in to the social ladder quite nicely, with people i can idly pal around with but also with people who intend to nitpick on me every day. Of course, nitpicking me becomes incredibly pointless when i basically do anything i’m asked to do… case in point: today is casual day, and i wore jeans. Not ripped jeans, or frayed jeans, just a nice pair of dark blue jeans. One of the staff tried to chastise me, since jeans are apparently not the sort of “casual” that we’re looking for, and i replied “Next week i won’t wear them, but i wore these same jeans last week and no one said a word. Perhaps you need to establish a written dress code.” See, … i can’t always be sugary sweet, because i obviously feel as though i’m being fucked with when someone tries to put a strike against me for doing something they themselves have never commented on before. So, i had to get my little barb in about the dress code. But, anyhow, i’ll be happy not to wear jeans next week, but today they just have to deal.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/04/3186056/

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The oddest thing happened to me wednesday night. There was a knock on my door, and i immediately was ready to scream “Jesus, Matt, how the hell did you manage to lose your keys?” but when i looked out the peephole i saw something that was definitely more girl-shaped than Matt (Josh chimes in: Dude, I’m more girl-shaped than Matt.) Sorry, anyway… I opened the door and there was a girl there. I asked timidly “Am i being loud?”, and in response i was handed a wine cooler, and the girl doing the handing said “I just wanted to tell you that i love listening to you through my ceiling and i wanted to give you something, so here.” I sorta just stood there dumbfounded for a second, opening and closing my mouth, and then said “Wow… um… thank you.” We chatted for a very strange minute or two during which i found out she lives directly beneath me, and then she left. I put the bottle down on my stereo and started working on my new song again, but the bottle was staring me down. It felt weird sitting there.

Bottle in hand i went downstairs and rapped on her door, and she opened it with a sorta bemused look on her face and i said “I don’t really take liquor from strangers, but i’ll come down and play you some songs this weekend and drink it then.” We wound up talking for an hour, during which time i learned that i’m “famous.” My next door neighbor apparently turns off his teevee at night to listen to me play, her entire family knows who i am from her commenting on me while on the phone, and her boyfriend was totally ecstatic to hear me bleeding down through the walls one day when he woke up. “I’m sorta like a teevee character, huh?” “Well, I didn’t want you to think i wanted to hook up with you or anything, but i just had to come up and give you something or say something. So, both”


We sat on her floor with her door wide open for a while and figured out that the weird italian looking guy in spandex from her dorm was actually Joey, and she even knows Selina from working in the language department, and i wound up promising to communicate through notes slipped under her door, and that i’d show up with my guitar over the weekend.

And to think i thought she was going to complain about me being loud.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/04/3185795/

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By the way, it would seem that i come down against the idea of drunken flings afterall. I did get one comment about them that made me really think for a minute … one of my friends wound up in his utopic current relationship as a result of a drunken hookup, perhaps because the two of them would have never had the courage or momentum to join lips while sober. And, while momentum has never been my specialty, i’d hate to know that i only had the nerve to finally act on my feelings because i was just unsteady enough (in every respect) to lean in for that kiss. Yes, you’re hearing me saying that i’ll take crushing agony waiting here in my chair blocks and miles away over that one intoxicated moment that you’d never be able to explain away years later. Not that you can ever explain any of this stuff to anyone rationally at any point, but at least then i’ve just got the regular reason.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/04/3160819/

Filed Under: sex

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On the heels of that sexy little topic, i got in a fight with someone last night about whether or not i’m a virgin. I was aghast that he not only assumed i got around, but also that he thought i was being coy when i told him i am a member of the proverbial V-Club. It’s not that i’m all that proud of my virginity, it’s just that given my range of “opportunities” i would have to have been a big slut to have lost it by now. Or something. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because i don’t listen to any sexy music…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/04/3158981/

Filed Under: sex