Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

admissions

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Spring brings a certain weariness with it these days. There is a pressure, a pressure behind my eyelids, that is trying to masquerade as tears. I know that it’s really just the rain, and the trees, and nature interfering with the artificial things i am expecting from my body. Nevertheless, i have almost been convinced to break down and weep, and within that inclination there is the tired forward motion of time.

The office is quiet; it feels like a Monday should feel. I don’t think anyone will notice me sniffling and wiping my cheek on my sleeve if i just do it here where i’m sitting. I’m going to miss this office… against my better judgment i’m trying to stay on here even though i’m moving on to my new job. It’s just something about these people, and how they read my face, and how they know exactly what my smiles mean. There’s something about them caring that i really don’t want to leave behind.

It’s funny how spring doesn’t always manage to play the part, even after i get so exciting about its approach. It’s a good thing that i feel like spring, anyhow…

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/75020663/

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I have been shocked as of late when it comes to the quality of relatively new blogs that have been linking me; case and point: the brand new and witty Still Life With Woodpecker and the DIY retro-spacecrafty Secret Rocket 13. A coincidence that both blogs linked to Rabi and various members of the GangBang family, plus the as-of-late awe-inspiring BlueLikeThat? Sure… and maybe it’s a coincidence that one of them links to my girlfriend too :p

Meanwhile, a cruise through GangBang reveals discussion of respected blogger Heather losing her job (via an always-crushed-on Shaun). Shaun speculates that that Heather’s kvetching about in-house incompetence in this post is involved in her termination, which her above post seems to corroborate.

The crossover from blog to real life has been brought into sharp focus lately through a boggling round of events that do not begin or end with my girlfriend-related link, or even the fact that my girlfriend has her own blog (which, if you were wondering, makes her exponentially sexier than your average girl, as she also plays a bit of guitar). It’s more that both her roommate and her boyfriend also have blogs (which i’ve recently linked), and that one of the boyfriend’s hallmates figured out that he was the boy behind the blog after he found the link on my page, of which he’s apparently a semi-regular reader. It’s about how the shower-guy messaged me to ask if he was the shower-guy who i was talking about. It’s about my page being on the history of half a dozen computers in the Admissions Office. It’s about Sara, Laurel, Lauren, Elise, and god knows who else spending couples of hours each catching up on my archives. This has become the virtual 500-pound-gorilla of my hobbies and interests, and try as i might i can’t seem to keep it separated from my real life at this point for longer than a month or two after i meet someone new. And, honestly, i’ve always wanted it to be exactly that … something you have to take notice of … but, i suppose i never really thought it through until now.

The GangBang post combined with these recent events hits especially close to home today, as earlier i interviewed for a very tech-savvy co-op internship with a Fortune500 company based out of Philadelphia and was quizzed at length about my level of internet know-how. While my interviewer whole-heartedly agreed that my personal site talking about brushing my teeth and other such navel-gazing nonsense wasn’t something he wanted to use for or against his decision to hire me, he did perk up at my descriptions of Blogger and Little Yellow Different and furiously wrote both addresses down on his legal pad (presumably to surf to later). While i’m not exactly the featured link on either the big B or LYD, i do figure rather heavily into PuppetMaster and SurvivorBlog2 on the latter … blathering endlessly about purity points and my opinion on drugs on one & being a whore and hitting on Ashley and James on the other (not to mention that i’m relatively easy to find via Google, which he was definitely familiar with). I could tell that i definitely garnered points with him by talking about learning HTML on my own and coding the basics of my site in PHP, but i’ve definitely got to stop mentioning Ernie at job interviews.

Quite a conundrum to find myself talking about the page with Lauren in Admissions today and be told that all of my recent philosophical wanderings on the subjects of Cold and Real-Audio pale in comparison to the expression of emotion. A bloody heart is the reddest kind after all… i’m just afraid that at this rate that even my oft-spied-on neighbor might wind up reading about what i think of him.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/03/10429976/

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When people start asking you if you’re growing your hair out again, then it is time to get a haircut.

Working in the Admissions Office has strange perks sometimes, and one of them is that the head of the music program has to come in every so often to chat with my boss. I made sure to take advantage of every tiny break in the conversation to further my own nefarious goals. In a couple of short minutes i had found out why access to the recording studio is currently so restricted, made an appointment to talk about doing a directed study recording project (for credit! real academic credit!), and secured a spot in a songwriting class that’s going to be taught by a Grammy Winning songwriter.

Rock’n’Roll ;)

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/01/8688259/

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The trend in weblogs for ringing in the New Year seems to be a dead split between resolutions that might not be upheld and a litany of excellent things about 2001 that never came to light through the actual process of blogging. So, in the spirit of my general disagreeance and spitefulness this past weekend, here are the reasons why my year sucked (in roughly chronological order):

  • My grandmother dies; i proceed to get so sick that i miss the funeral (never to be forgiven by family). (!)

  • I have to drop a class for the first time. (!)

  • The weekend of my dress rehearsals for Good Woman of Setzuan i am diagnosed with Pneumonia and Bronchitis. I have to argue not to be admitted to the hospital so i can start going to rehearsals again. Upon my return I forget an entire verse of my big song on opening night (at this point being generally attributed to my medication, which i will neither confirm nor deny). (!)

  • My first girlfriend wound up being somewhat of a psycho/bitch; horrible breakup ensues. (!)

  • I managed not to fail anything despite all of the above circumstances, but garner my first C (in Recording Class) (!)

  • I have no spring vacation; i immediately started work at Admissions after classes ended. (!)

  • I am totally miserable in my apartment; i don’t speak much to my roommate. (!)

  • I miserably quit blogging for an entire week when my archives disappear. (!)

  • I do not leave the city once during the entire summer. (!)

  • I spend the majority of the summer wondering where i’ll be living in September. (!)

  • I sign up to attend the Philadelphia Folk Fest and then have to back out because of work and moving into my new apartment. (!)

  • I step in to give the counselor-of-the-day presentation one Tuesday in September, because the counselor in question was to horror-stricken to speak. (!)

  • I enter a rather depressive haze and let details about it slip to my mother, who becomes physically ill at the thought of my mental instability. (!)

  • I am admitted to the hospital for four days only to be told absolutely nothing is wrong with me. (!)

  • I endlessly deliberate over a first date with someone who lives across the country from me and who i like very much — only to be romantically rebuffed. (!)

  • I spend the entire last weekend of the year in the most dire of blah moods. (!)


    • So, that’s my year. At a glance, 2001 looks as though it might have been my worst year ever pound for pound. However, lest we all despair for my miserable year, click the end of each phrase for the happy ending that i might not have hinted at while blogging. And, in case i haven’t mentioned it, Happy New Year.

    https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/01/8335446/

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    Yesterday was a day of everything in pieces. In Literature we watched a fuzzy academic film about the art of the Mexican Revolution, and it was as if all of the bright murals on the screen traded places with my campus so that their shaded in people were all round and real while mine were strangely flat. Everything in my world was little mosaic bits of mural… like looking close enough to notice that the shading of a cheek is really just a couple of dashes of black paint. Eventually i wound up giggly and in charge at the office because we were doing territory management via email and i was the only person who knew how to make an href so we could have spiffy links (i think they just thought that it happened by magic). Then there was some inbetween time… a quick $20 shopping binge with Gina at K-Mart so we could have costumes for the party. And then the party. But, the less said about that the better.

    https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6666102/