...long, cold, lonely winter...

[kristaphone]

...kiss me out of this hour...

I had to go to the precinct again this weekend. Here are some more disturbing facts about our case:

*Our apartment was picked at random. They focused on busy streets so they could move about unnoticed.
*He rapped two other women. One of which looks exactly like my roomate. They are also doing remarkably well.

If he pleads guilty he will recieve thirty years to life. If he pleads not guilty he will get 200 years.
He has admitted to the burglaries, but not the rapes. This means one thing...
trial.

As for the rest of my weekend, it was wonderful.

 

[kristaphone]

I was at the DA's office all day yesterday.
YUCK.
I am going to be a witness at the trial. I never thought I'd be a witness at a trial. I also never thought I'd be doing improv in NYC so I guess not all surprises are bad.

I saw Shrink this morning. What a great guy. We got down to the reason the personal dilemma in my life currently exists--I am afraid of dying alone.
For a girl as independent as I am, I fear dying without a person in the world to grieve for me. On a more dramatic note, I fear dying and no one discovering my body until my neighbors smell it. I think that is such a horrible scenario, but it has happened.
Shrink said, of course this could happen, but what are the chances that it actually will?
Not likely. I am too much of fireball to live the later part of my life secluded in a house.
I also fear losing my parents and not having anyone there to help me get by. I have no siblings. The thought of dealing with that alone scares me to tears.

These ideas may seem ridiculous to you, but they are what consume me. They also dictate my present static state.

At least I walked out of his office feeling better. I am on my way to believing that I will be just fine no matter what I choose in my life. I think I'm ready to make some necessary changes. I refused to be rushed, but I will do them.

 

[kristaphone]

...don't you worry 'bout a thang...

Kyle and I broke up last night--for real. He's going after some job in Maui. He wants me to go with him.
It was between him and my career. I chose the latter.

If I just went with him I would eventually resent him and any children we'd have. We would then divorce and my nightmares would be my realities.

He has been so supportive thus far--now he's pulling a fucking ultimatum on me. Fuck you.

And by the way, Kyle. I don't give a shit what you say, we may be over now, but someday I bet you we get married. I bet my fucking life on it, Asshole.

Until then (a 'then' which may never come) I am going to focus on my career--whatever the fuck that is--and I'm going to give some things a shot. You'd be surprised how far you can hide yourself from someone even when you're hugging.

 

[kristaphone]

...long farewell from the hunger strike...

My parents are my fan club. They have supported me both financially and emotionally throughout my entire life. Without them I would be nowhere near where I am now, nor be the person I am now.
I owe them everything.

When they finalized their divorce last summer I took it particularly hard. I didn't want to think that either of them could have faults--faults that could hurt the other. But they do. Like other subjects, a part of me just wishes to be blissfully ignorant.

The divorce also made me distraught realizing that being the only child, I would have to watch every action and word so as not to tip the scales--making on parent believe I loved the other more. Around holidays this can be particularly hard. No matter how hard I try I cannot be at two places at once. Therefore, one parent will be alone.

That is unless one of them starts dating.

My Dad has been dating a younger woman for a little bit. I don't know her name. I don't ask for it. My Mom automatically assumed he was having an affair with her which I don't believe to be the case. My Dad said he wasn't and my Dad doesn't lie to me. I figured that I can avoid her presence at all costs. Well, I just got some news--he's bringing her to my cousin's wedding.

This means that my Mom is not coming. Because Kyle and I are on break I can't bring him to calm me down as he has done in the past--so, potentially I could be a huge bitch to this woman. In fact, I'm kind of planning on it.
I know she didn't cause the divorce--I just don't like the fact that she exists.

What can I say? I'm spoiled. If I don't like something I have a temper tantrum--except more of the quiet, brooding stare type.

As for me regarding the rest of what's going on in my life, I'm trying my best to shake off these fantasies of walking out infront of a firetruck. Oh, but seriously, if that was to actually happen--me getting hit by a firetruck--know that it was an accident. I'm too chicken shit to actually do it.

 

[kristaphone]

...Would you prefer the easy way?...

Art is a touchy subject.

Art is relative and therefore you can't really define it. So, it's all the more uncomfortable for me to realize that I'm living for something that I can't even conceptually grasp.

I live by my performances. I live by my classes. I take things in small steps all in accordance to my art. The fact is that I love to perform. Whether it be dance or improv, or plays, I love it.

A tough lesson I learned was that you cannot put-down anyone's idea of art. Some people may be emotionally stirred by a Pauly Shore movie and although you can disagree, you must let them have it. The reason for this is (at least what I have come to believe) is that people appreciate those things they wish they could do themselves.

Whether someone is a banker, or whatever, I have the suspicion that everyone is an artist or at least aspires to be one. Whatever form of art they dream off, they love that art like a lover. Therefore, any dig at their lover is a steak through their heart.

Because I love art the way I do, I have been know to be somewhat a perfectionist. As if some of you didn't already know that. I am competitive with myself. I want to be the best dancer/improvisor/whatever as I can be so that I don't let my team down, so that I can walk outside after the show and be proud that people recognize me from just being onstage.

I've gotten to a zen-like point in dance that I am more accepting of my mistakes--not in a lazy way--but in a way where the mistake has become a part of the performance. I don't get nervous before dance performances anymore. When I am on stage dancing, I am praying.

Improv is a horse of a different color, though. I will be celebrating my first year of improv in early October. I felt a love for it immediately and have submerged myself in it. I want to make up for a lifetime without it. But because it is new, I practically shit myself before I go on stage. I have not found my zen in it and it can be very nerve-racking. For an artform that supposedly has "no mistakes" I seem to think of a hundred I could make before I go infront of the lights.

 

[kristaphone]

One Day Too Late/ I'm in Hell

The title of this entry comes from a song that is soon to be released by a band called Seether. No not a Veruca Salt spin-off band. They're from South Africa.
I overheard the director of this video (my production company was filming it) say he wanted me for a particular part. The producer then said, "Yeah, but can we really take her off the phones."

asshole bitch-face

Anyways, last night was the last night of my level 3B class with Delaney. Our class is composed of great improvisors. There are some people from Berrebbi's Dark Champions--did I spell your name right?, some people from my Tuesday night horse with no name, and some from Winnebago del Fuego. It's a great class. Everyone is very kind and friendly to one another. However, and everyone in class agrees with me, we cannot seem to improvise well together. call me crazy, but it's as if the sum is not as big as all it's parts.

Nobody knows what is wrong. We just all agree that our in-class Harolds stink. Last night we finally got to the place we should have been at in week three. At least we got there, though. We have two new teams left to perform. The first is this up-coming Thursday and the next is Thursday August 22nd. That's right! We get to perform after not seeing each other for two and a half weeks. I'm going to try to get us together once before we have that second one.
No I'm not bossy--But I just have this over-bearing fear that if I don't do shit it won't get done. There.

We need to name the Tuesday night group, pick a form and start performing. There's no time like the present.

 

[kristaphone]

Will you still need me/Will you still feed me...

At approximatley 10:30am I had a huge panick attack at work. I started thinking how I would die alone/ everything I love is going to die/blah/blah/blah.
I had to leave work. I went home and cried all day. oh woe is me.

Of course I went to the movie rental to get some stuff to watch before i went home to my pj's.
when i'm sad i need to watch mundane, stupid movies--thus my reason for renting 'not another teen movie' and 'orange county'.

what's sadder than watching them?

laughing at them.

what's sadder than laughing at them?

laughing at them out loud.

i was hoping that when i saw shrink today he would provide me the cliff's notes to happiness aka PAXIL.

This never happened. I was too chicken shit to ask.

gee. i'm such a damsel. fuck you, too krista.

 

[kristaphone]

...So Kiss Me Quick...

New Team is tonight and the stomach is already flipping.
It's a mixture of happiness and nervousness. On top of the fact that this is my first new team on a Thursday--my last one fell on the day of the rape--I have friends from Indy coming in. They coincided their summer NYC trip with my show. I hope my group has fun and kicks ass up there.

With art I really feel that without having fun it's no good. Now by 'fun' I don't necessarily mean laughs and good times. Sometimes the 'fun' that art brings is a night of crying. For instance the movie 'Cinema Paradiso'--I bawled. I was crying uncontrollably in the theater as if my hamster just died--a hamster that raised me and was my only contact with the outside world. For anyone who hasn't seen it, please do yourself a favor and rent it tonight.

Anyways, I hope my team has fun up onstage tonight exploring the art of improv. I hope that we come off stage with a show that we are proud of: playing at the top of our intelligence, truth, blah, blah, blah. When I go up there I am personally going to repeat a quote in my head from the Delmonic Interviews. (Is her first name Stephanie?) The woman from WeirDass quoted Del as saying, "If you try and be funny, I'll throw a chair at you."

Personally that quote takes a lot of pressure off me. I am not the funny man in the group. I just like being a good scene partner. So, if I go up there thinking that I don't have to be funny, I'm just there to support my team, I think I will have a more enjoyable experience. I will be more likely to have fun--that's for sure.

We still don't have a name for the Tuesday night orphans. The debate is too much fun in of itself to actually agree on a name.

 

[kristaphone]

...oh wouldn't it be loverly...

I had so much fun onstage last night.
I got to do my scenes with Birch, so already I felt pretty good. We explored the life a football player gone philosophically-a-stray. For our second beat Dave Martin helped us heighten. I had a lot of fun. It was the first time I was out of my head in a long time.

The major problem our class had last night was editing. We didn't edit hard enough resulting in long harolds aka poop. We have another show on the 22nd so hopefully we will get our shit together.

I was feeling really good afterwards and was pretty much hugging anyone I could--people I have never hugged before, but that I am acquainted with. Is it possible I made some people uncomfortable? Oh yeah. But who cares? I had fun last night--with a capitol 'F'. Besides what the hell is wrong with a hug--the exchange of energy and affection--the last safe physical giving of one person to another. If I ever have to put on some sort of body condom to give people hugs I will be very upset.

I am going home for an entire week. I have to prove to my parents that I'm not suicidal. That should be pretty easy considering that I'm not suicidal. I get to see my cat again and go shopping in a mall. Gee. A real mall.
Regardless of how 'un-cool' it is, I think anyone from a suburban background will agree that a short return to it is relaxing and refreshing. Anything more than a short stay is a bad one.

Here's to a shopping binge at the Gap.
Cheers.

 

[kristaphone]

Thank You Mr. Harrison

Little Darlin'
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darlin'
It seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the Sun
Here comes the Sun
And I say, It's alright

I wish I could sing along with you George, but there is no sun from where I'm standing.

I don't think I'm going to be writing for a while.
I am feeling much too sad.

Bye peeps.

--Krista

 

[kristaphone]

Back in Time

My parents are fucking lunatics.
They are the reason for my journal-neglect.
If you will remember I had left to go home for a week to lose some of the stress that had been building up. I went home only to get more.

I met my Dad's girlfrienduke: . I can't tell my Mom I met her. It would break her heart. She fine as a person, but I just want to grab her little travel agent neck, drag her over infront of her children and say, "Look at your Mom. She's a fucking whore."

O.K. So I wouldn't want to do that. Her kids are innocent and every child, no matter what age, is allowed to think their parents are wonderful no matter what. DID YOU HEAR WHAT I JUST SAID MOM & DAD!!!

My Mom got upset because I am still planning on attending my cousin's wedding. She is my fucking cousin. We are as close as sisters. Of course I'm going. So now my Mom might go--knowing my dad is bringing his whore-bitch. My mOm hides her emotions as well as I do. What does that mean? Oh, this wedding is going to end in a cat fight my friends. I was really excited to go to San Diego, but fuck it. I'll be crying. My Mom and bitch-whore will probably be gouging each others eyes out. But who will my dad be attending to? Me? I'm starting to think he likes his whore-bitch more than me. I'm crying now having said that. I am crying at work. Fuck you.

I am slowly incorporating God back into my life. he never really left, but our relationship has permanently changed. Now when He says 'Fuck you', I say 'Fuck you' right back. We have a love/hate relationship. We are your friends parents who seemed they were going to get a divorce years ago--yet they're still together while your once happy parents are duking it out in court.

That whore-bitch went up to my Mom's face and told her to get a life, by the way. My Mom may not be a career woman such as your travel agent self, but her life became raising and loving me. if you insult my Mom you insult me, whore-bitch. I will see to it that whenever i can do it, i will make you feel how worthless you really are. can't wait to see you in October.

I'm crying again. the only person who was ever able to calm me down was kyle. i miss him.

 

[kristaphone]

...this could be all time...

Let's forget my fucked-up family life for a minute. I had my extra New Team date last night. It didn't go as well as the last but we still had a great show, especially considering we hadn't been together for two weeks.

I get especially critical of myself and last night was no acception. I had a great first beat with Angeliki. At the beginning of the scene I could feel myself being a dick to her. I quickly evolved it into be very pro-Angeliki. We found our game and our characters had an emotional bond. We were set for the next beats. The next beats were great but I felt that the other characters were at an advantage to contribute more to the game than myself, so i was pretty quiet. Group games have been better, but they were definitely different.

I have a hard time not being overly-critical of myself when it comes to something I love. I used to butcher myself when it came to dance. Now dance is more like prayer to me and I accept my mistakes as a learning spring-board. I haven't found my improv-zen yet. I guess I should give myself a break. I will have been doing improv for a year come October. Still, I love it. Like people, if I love something, I want it to think I'm awesome.

Good news: My dog back home, Casey, does not have cancer!!!!!!!!!!!!:love:

 

[kristaphone]

...bells of the church tower chime...

Dream Team is up and running. Although we have had small audiences for both, we have had two very strong shows. I am very happy.

I overheard someone say, "That kristaphone on the irc is so sad all the time."
In my defense, I had the shittiest of summers--wouldn't you agree? I am not normally so sad. In fact, I'd say right now that I am doing DREAMY.
The thing that helped heal me was seeing my old roomate. She came to NYC for three wekks. She is amazing! We had a ball together.
While this experience had made me more detatched from loved ones, more impulsive, less-God-fearing, and "so sad all the time", she has grown more spiritual, her family is closer--everything. She is truly an inspiration. If she can pick herself up, so can I. And I have. Eat that red-head--whoever you are!!!

In fact, I walked into a church on Saturday. I just stood there. I told God I missed him and thanked him for being patient with me. Then I left. I like churches more when no one is around. Mass is stupid in my opinion. If you really want to thank God for being alive, I think yuo should use your own words--as opposed to chanting someone elses. maybe I'll be doing that from now on.

I am moved into my new place. I have my bookshelves up. I have my stereo running. I have paid my cousin a large sum for whatever utliities i may have used in the past three months. AKA I am feeling fucking fantastic.
I realized that I missed having a place to call all my own. i missed having a space that no one has the right to be in but me. I like having a large mote (sp?) surrounding me. So, to go three months without even a castle is a huge deal.

I am feeling like I don't need to go to Shrink anymore, but I don't have the heart to tell him goodbye. So instead of being brave I will just fork over the $125 a week--because you see that makes more sense.

 

[kristaphone]

...Tune Two Chords...

I am wearing all black today. It makes me feel like an asshole. I didn't know anyone personally that died a year ago today. I don't know--I felt like those people still deserved my respect. So, I did it.
I guess I just look like any other regular New Yorker--but I feel like an asshole.

Old habits and feelings die hard. But when they do eventually pass there are some you mourn and some whose graves you dance on.

 

[kristaphone]

...You Don't Have To Go...

Wow. Yesterday. I'm glad it's past.
I ended up spending the evening with friends instead of going to a memorial service. I know I didn't want to be alone and going to a memorial service surrounded by strangers--not cool.
I ended up practicing glutany at Johnny Rockets. Peanut Butter Chocolate shake, thou art my weakness. After that we just walked around the east village.
I noticed last night that there were more people outside their apartments. The East Village is constantly awake, but it just seemed that more people were outside reading, drinking beer, etc. Everyone seemed to just not want to be alone. It was reminiscent of a hobit village--I have no idea why I just wrote that.

My Dad just got my non-refundable ticket to San Diego for my cousin's wedding. My Mom isn't going after all. I started to freak out because this will be the first trans-continental flight I've been on since before the attacks. Flights from NYC to my hometown of Buffalo don't even count as flights. They're like a plane hiccoping.

 

[kristaphone]

...Hope I Never Wake...

God Bless the Sundays.

Why is it that things that are supposed to be good for you end up making you feel worse? Or maybe it's not that they make you feel worse--but this "good" thing doesn't make you feel "good".
I've been going to bed earlier. I've been getting eight hours of sleep almost every night--almost. How come I feel so much more tired when I wake up? Fuck that.

But even beyond sleep, I've tried to swing my life in a more simple direction. I figured if I make things more simple my life will be easier and less stressful. Well, that is bullshit. I have never second guessed myself so much. I tear-up thinking I'm missing out on something. I am anxious. When I walk down the street I find that my hands are clenched in fists. I am walking especially fast these days.
Maybe it's because I'm a dancer, but if you want to know how I'm feeling all you have to do is watch the way I move. I am my own litmus test.

I feel like the horse that stayed at the gate after the bell to throw the jockey off. I feel very free and yet completely unguided.

 

[kristaphone]

...if you can keep me, I want to stay here...

What is more important: your happiness or the happiness of someone you love?

Whatever.

I was walking through the city today and I noticed a man with hair on his shoulders. This immediately brought my thoughts to waxing, which then led me to think of evolution. Stay with me.
What if, instead of having evolved from mamals, we evolved from reptiles? Yes, I know, it's not an original question--Super Mario Bros. the Movie demonstrated it quite nicely. But I'm wondering, could we wax off pesky scales that would gather in the armpit or hotspot region? Seriously. I don't think you'd be able to wax off scales.

Back to my life. I think I'm doing alright. What is not alright has to do with the question posted above. At what price do your needs come before your loved ones? If I was starving, I would hand the first piece of bread I found to the man sitting next to me--hell, I wouldn't even have to know him.
I would jump infront of a speeding van to push a friend out of the way.

It scares me that I so easily chose my death over others.

But recent decisions I am faced with have no sign of death. They have a much worse sting. Death would be the easy way out of anything. Real bravery is sticking around in this shithole and learnign to slide through, it. But that's just my opinion.

Other than that I have been doing some really shitty sketch writing recently. Real shit. I can't even make myself laugh. I am in a funk. I need a brain enema.

 

[kristaphone]

...I'll come running to you now, baby if you want me...

I was offered a part in a play, a dancer role. I didn't take it--well, I guess it was revoked--when I said I could make all the rehearsals except for Tuesday nights. that's Dream Team. I chose improv over dance. I am very happy with this decision.
The role would have also required me to miss a lot of work, which I don't think i could pull off.
My Mom was a little upset. but hey, you never know. The woman who auditioned me was so impressed she said she would be calling soon for other auditions.
Who knows? Do you know how many times I've heard that already? Too many.
it just feels like nothing is working out in that arena. I have had so many close calls and so many--project-loses-money-at-the-last-minute that I don't even feel dissappointment.
I am numb. I accept the possibility that all my hard work and sacrifice will amount to nothing but stupid anecdotes that noone will want to hear as I become old and wrinkled. i will fight this possibility.

For once being such a chipper girl, I am now a dud. Hopefully something will give me a glimmer of hope. But even that seems unlikely. I have learned that you cannot count on the things you need coming through. If anything even remotely good happens, it should be considered a miracle.

Blah, blah, blah. Oh, Miss Carrot Top, this isn't me being "so depressed" all the time. This is me sharing my life. it may be dark, but it's mine. And i didn't share my good friends rape on a "comedy board" because I thought it was funny. I shared it to make people aware that that kind of horrific act still happens and can still happen to innocent people who were just trying to be artists in this wonderful city. "Comedians" such as yourself have to be consciously aware of the dark side of life. If not, all you will have is Komedy with a K. Got that Karrot Top?

Cheers.

 

[kristaphone]

...Oh Sweet Nothin', ya ain't got nothin' at all...

Will the things up my sleeve ever come down?
Who the fuck knows.

I had been keeping a secret from my parents for a while, I had found a cyst about two months back. It ended up being nothing and eventually going away. It was however something I needed to have checked out. Well, I thought when I wrote the check for a little under three hundred that that was that.

NOOOOOOOO.

I got another bill last night for lab work that is almost five hundred dollars.
Fuck you, too.

So i had to tell my Dad with severe instructions that he cannot tell Mom. I need help paying it. i had to tell him. I see more and more of my parents in me whenever things like this happen. I have embodied the opposite attraction which was their relationship: I am all nerves on the inside and all keep-driving-through-it-on-the-outside.

I am developing crushes on men that are long dead. I am aspiring to be a race horse.

 

[kristaphone]

...and it's good to know that you'll drive away, from this car crash nightmare...

Last night was so much fun. I saw friends in both PCR and the Office excell at their craft. Kisses to all of you.

last night was also good for me as far as run-ins with fate are concerned. between the 8 o'clock and Cage, i went to McManus. Walking back I ran into a choreorapher I auditioned for a year ago. he remembered me and gave me a job. Rehearsals start today.
The night ended on a pretty good note. I got a free beer.

I am the reporter that will pick up the fallen jockey's head from the puddle so he doesn't drown. I cannot agree with everything you do, and maybe I get angry, but i won't drop you. I am your reporter friend: always watching in my way, but never trying to change what is inevitable.