Crushing Krisis

The Newest Oldest Blog In New Zealand

Archives for December 2001

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There’s a unnatural desert wind through the chill of my room every twelve minutes or so as the heater in Lindsay’s closet warms the house with its breath, and in the breeze that just passed a picture came fluttering down from my wall. I picked it up to affix it back to the wall by my door and saw that it was a picture Ross had just given me a few weeks ago – one of Laurel and I at my first Drexel party.

It was taken over two years ago.

Two years ago, and as i pressed my fingers against its shiny corners to cover up the bare rectangle of wall it had left in its wake all that i could was that life is a strange and mazelike thing. I thought about how i spent all that week decorating her house along with her roommates, namely Kate and Erika. Kate wound up moving away at the beginning of my Sophomore year, and then Laurel moved away for a while and Lindsay took her room. I moved into a different house with with Lindsay and Erika this September, and Kate just came to stay with us for the remainder of the holidays.

Two years ago, and i only wound up at their house so much in the first place because i got into the play that four of them were starring in, and i was only there decorating so often because i developing a crush on Laurel, and i only went back last year to hang out with Lindsay, which brought me back into their social circle again. And now i am friends with Laurel, and her boyfriend from back then was just in my living room, and Kate is staying here for New Years, and life doesn’t seem to do anything but endlessly coil and snake around itself anymore.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/8268451/

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So, after my several impromptu shopping excursions this week i have both a new handful of possible top-ten cds of 2001 and lots of shelf-space to keep them on. Earlier today i was perusing Amazon to see if i had missed many discs, and i’ve come to the conclusion that i need at least half of the following albums before i can render definitive judgment on the year: Beth Amsel Kindling, Belle & Sebastian Jonathan David, Michelle Branch The Spirit Room, Bright Eyes / Son, Ambulance Oh Holy Fools, David Byrne Look into the Eyeball, Eliza Carthy Angels and Cigarettes, Catie Curtis My Shirt Looks Good on You, Curve Gift, Melissa Ferrick Valentine Heartache, Joe Henry Scar, Internal/External Inside Out, Elton John Songs From the West Coast, Lucy Kaplansky Every Single Day, Stephen Malkmus s/t, John Mayer Room for Squares, R.E.M. Reveal, The Strokes Is This It, Travis The Invisible Band, White Stripes White Blood Cells. Over half of those might be crappy, but somewhere in the midst there surely lies something my top five has missed. If you’ve got any knowledge of any of these records, please don’t hesitate to say so.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/8262164/

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I don’t know what i was thinking, really. First i just wanted to give Amy her Christmas present, then we were going shopping, then we were going to IKEA, and then i decided that it was a good idea because i needed a new cd shelf.

Little did i know i would come back having spent the last of my Christmas money and in possession of three brand new pieces of furniture, a 20-piece dish set, a half dozen wine glasses, four rose-colored cups, and one new skillet. One minute Amy and i were just following the arrows on the floor of the uber-decor store, and the next i was pushing a shopping cart with one hand and pulling a hand-truck with the other. But, oh, no it doesn’t end there… because, other than couches everything IKEA sells comes unassembled.


How long does it take a single college student to build a double-width shelf, a six-tiered utility unit, and a waist-high bureau? Approximately 24-hours, taking breaks only to sleep, eat, go to the bank, and watch Momento. Which, actually, was quite a few breaks. I could’ve easily worked right through the night last night, except that i had come upon the hammering bit of the shelf just as my two roommates and two houseguests came upon their sleeping bit of the night. Myself, i was wholly oblivious to any noise being made by my hammer because i had the rather large headphones from the last post on and was being soothed by the folk of Gillian Welch down to the very core of my being. So, it came as a great surprise when an especially cranky Erika emerged from my stairwell to tell me, in no uncertain terms, that the time for hammering had come and gone.

Around there is where the sleeping-break came into the picture.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/8248519/

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My mother just didn’t understand when i asked for headphones. I wasn’t just asking for headphones, i was asking for serious audio-observance equipment that could double as earmuffs on a cold winter’s day. She got me a pair of petite Sony’s that can be easily compacted and placed into one’s pocketbook.

Right. That’s what i said.

So, today we headed out to Best Buy, second only to Kohl’s in it’s sick ability to drain my pocket of all available green-backs (and, conveniently, we had just come from Kohl’s).

The resulting pair of earphones the size of hamsters (and requisite fistful of cd’s) are highly appropriate; when i have them on i can’t hear anything else happening in the room, even if i don’t have any music playing. Now, that’s a serious pair of headphones.

Honestly, the first person to market ear-muffs that double as headphones will make an absolute fortune.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2001/12/8202287/

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My mother, ever the intrepid homemaker upon the once-a-year occasion that finds me in our house for three consecutive days, rose with dawn this morning to acquire the last few items on our Italian Christmas Grocery List. We do not make ham. We do not eat turkey. For us, Christmas is all about a inordinately large pot of gravy, some sort of homemade pasta, and upwards of a dozen eggs worth of scappels. However, since i left for school, Christmas has also been the chance for the two of us to collectively gorge ourselves on high-cholesterol Italian desserts. This was the reason Elaine was out of the house just after eight this morning.


While i am a cheesecake addict through and through, my mother tends to veer more towards pastries and chocolates. This year she decided that my jumbo-cheesecake would get the axe in favour of an equally massive tiramisu, and the bakery informed her that she’d have to arrive “pretty early” to secure a nummy liquor-soaked cake for herself. They literally told her that people would be lined up around the block before the subway started running; she took it with a grain of salt and got in the car during the back half of Good Morning America.


8:25 — “Hey, it’s me… i can’t believe you actually woke up this early. … Whatever. Listen, i’m just swinging by the pastry place and running some quick errands. … Yeah, i’ll be at your apartment by ten.”


Much to my mother’s chagrin (and my endless amusement), the line at Isgro’s was around the block … not only around the block, but nearly motionless in a dead-pan imitation of its ticket-line cousin i endured while flying last week.


9:30 — “Peter, hey, it’s me … i’ve been in line for about an hour. … You should see it, it’s a madhouse … I’ll call you before i come to pick you up. … Yeah, i should be there around ten-thirty.”

And, not only was this line packed to the gills with a cheery assortment of dietary die-hard degos who had the presence of mind to bring along folding chairs and thermoses, but it was being patrolled by a Mr. and Mrs. Claus — her with pastry samples, and him with a tray of Amaretto in tiny disposable shot-glasses. Furthermore, the local news was interviewing people up and down the line, kindly declining several offers of liquid warmth … via Mr. Claus as well as the crowd at large (who apparently came equipped). Did i mention it was about 43 degrees outside?


10:35 — “Um, Peter, it’s me … Yes, i’m still in line. … No, i can’t even see the doors from here. Santa keeps asking me if i’d like a drink. … Oh, no, I should be in by eleven.”

Upon her finally arriving (let’s call it @ twelvish) my mother had bought half our housecat’s weight in Italian desserts, and she blithely informed me that she was going to be on the noon and five-o’clock news, the latter of which she was taping at that very moment.


I skipped over the bit where i hid all of the liquor in my apartment so my grandmother could come up and see it (“Jesus, do you have enough steps in this place? I swear, i’d have a heart attack with all these goddamned steps.”), and also the bit where i got zero sleep to finish my mother’s freaking Christmas present that she had better appreciate.

Does anybody rememer last Christmas? I seem to remember it being cuter than this…

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