this one's for you, boner

i have a friend that is also psychically and synchronicityically inclined. this morning we had a synch, which isn't too uncommon (grounds). i txted her that i was listening to some of these comps and she responded that she was listening to this one.

this is a terrible, drunken video we made once. sorry i'm so annoying.



we had planned to do a series of lesbian confessionals. i'm still trying to think of a good internet sensation we can both work on across america.

she makes me wish i had a gf in my sea of chicagoan bfs. i'd have more fun. but i probably wouldn't like any girls for friends unless they were her (no offense if you're a female in chicago who considers herself my friend. i like this girl better than you).

my favorite shirts II

here i am with another anti-fashion installment in lieu of a story of synchronicity. this is stained.


i bought it for like four dollars or something in a pack of three at family dollar. it was an impulse buy. its clones are also stained. one with wine, one also with coffees. bugle boy makes them.

this is the whole ensemble:


today i decided to forego the dino necklace, in favor of really sweet beads from the estate of gloria closson. look at these babies:


i forget what cheap jewelry catalog mom predicted she got them from. i also have a totally beautiful choker from after gramma kicked it. i'll show y'all sometime.

i want to start a 60s psychedelic folk revival band. i want to sing. who wants to be part of this? i'm serious. i saw this band and this band last night and they were so darn awesome. i want to watch them perform every night. i need a time machine.

reasons i need a new job:

- customers complain about me

- i complain about customers

- i'm poor, despite this being my first day off in well over a week

- my hands are cracked and espresso-stained

synchronicity fails me

as promised at the end of my last post, i will share with you a tale of synchronicity letting me down.

also, i'm not sure i believe in horoscopes anymore.

long story short, i applied and interviewed for a job as a copy editor for decider.com, which is a relatively new arts/entertainment/nightlife/restaurant arm of the onion. there was a bunch of synchronicity surrounding the application, the editing test, the interview, the waiting to hear back.

my horoscope even said i'd be offered a really great media opportunity during the new moon.

total bs. all i got was my period. and that just made me about 10980329480923 times more depressed about it all.

the 'silver lining' is that the dude that rejected me as a copy editor said he'd like to see me do some writing for the site. so. i guess that's cool. whatever. i'm still allowed to be bummed out about it. and to be bummed that the synchronicity was fake. also, i'm trying to tell myself what i'd tell any of you if the tables were turned: 'it's supposed to be this way. it's for the best. blah blah blah mystical bullshit.'

i don't know what to believe in anymore. except that when i'm listening to justin timberlake at the gym, i like to believe that he's singing to me. 'you got me sayin' daaaaaaaamn girl, you're so fiiiine'

new feature: my favorite shirts

this feature will probably fall flat, but i'm trying to ignore the massive cloud of work-dread that is raining upon my curly lil' head.

inspired by blogs out of nyc where the bloggers post daily photos of how cute and stylish they are (in a genuine, unpretentious way. though i'm still jealous) and also inspired by this one time i was folding laundry and told nathan to keep me company and i told the story behind about half the pieces in my wardrobe. this is kind of like the anti-fashion blog because my clothes suck (if i were a dude it wouldn't be so bad) and my wardrobe is pretty static.

anyway, today i'm wearing this:


it is soft and comfy and the message is totally radical. i found it at some salvation army in upstate new york for a dollar and now i wear it often. in fact, i wore it this weekend already and didn't wash it before re-wearing it today. i'm a real catch.

today, however, i'm pairing it with this skirt (another upstate ny salvation army find, which kara burke also owns!!!). i haven't worn this skirt in at least a month. it's a nice change from my standard black skirt from sixth grade with bleach stains that i wear to work every day.


expect future 'my favorite shirts' installments to be more interesting. i just ordered one of these shirts from a blog i stalk. in doing so, i had to come clean about stalking.

next post: synchronicity fails me!

at least my morning was powerful

i just scrapped a post i was working on that was really negative. it was a roundup of my last 24 hours and i stated a few times "wanted to die." that's depressing, eh?

on a more positive note, i think i am in synch with the moon!

i'm a cancer and we're ruled by the moon. i don't care if y'all think i'm a quack, i totally feel the moon's tides. we're gettin a new moon in these next few days. guess who is also at the top of her monthly cycle?

last night i had a dream about wearing jazzy sparkly green eyeshadow. today i decided to wear ALL the makeup i own. check it:


that's eyeliner. can you see it? am i pretty? is this photo creepy? do you want to set me up with a handsome bachelor that is okay dating a girl that wears the same outfit everyday and believes in aliens?

unicorn!

i wore this shirt to work today to fend off any bad/sad feelings that might creep up inside my body:


i e-mailed nate to show him, since he gave it to me at the beginning of our lifelong love affair.

at work, a regular customer who is very sweet and adores each barista the same unzipped his jacket to show me this incredible sweater:


it's a scene from those totally beautiful and majestic unicorn tapestries!!!

at the same time he was in the cafe, there was a cute little girl also wearing a unicorn shirt. it was like the olden days at uncommon grounds when we always said 'UNICORN!!'

evangelistic ally

if you've talked to me for more than 20 minutes since the beginning of the month, i've probably told you that i've started attending bikram yoga classes. i've probably told you that you have to try it. if you're really lucky, i might have shown you a posture or two to demonstrate how great i've become.

anyway, bikram yoga makes me feel strong and powerful and in touch with my body.

slate sent this article to me yesterday for the 'culturebox' listserv i'm on. totally dissin' bikram and his yoga.

now i feel like i'm just a pawn. powerless.

also, last night my instructor told us that levitation is possible.

david crossing my fingers

some hippie snuck this propaganda behind the rack of Time Out magazines:


if we aren't busy tonight, i'm going end up becoming a veg again.


alas, i brought happier reading material with me. maybe i'll still enjoy duck after all.

you say ...

narthaniel moore sent me an e-mail about a recent synchronous experience he had involving elvis and lisa loeb.

lisa loeb is how i met the gin blossoms.

recently my roommate -- who shares a name with sir moore -- and i were talking about meeting famous people. i couldn't remember my myriad brushes with the famous. kick back, my friends, whilst i regale you with a stupid tale:

matt igler and i were sitting on the patio of circus cafe one open mic night in july or something of 2k7. these two dudes were sitting at the table next to us. one of them said 'hey, do people ever tell you you look like lisa loeb?' i sassed him and told him yeah yeah yeah, it's just the glasses. i don't actually look like her. (sidenote: i wrote to lisa loeb in the early 90s and she sent me an autographed photo. she signed it in a gold pen!!)


he pressed on, telling me how he's friends with her and trust him, i look like her. i asked how he knows her and he tells us that he's playing a show at the shitty dance club at the racino. he's in the gin blossoms!

it was just a guitarist and a roadie. they were totally awesome and we had so much fun with them. they invited us to go to their hotel room at the holiday inn to smoke pot and play video games (can ya believe we turned 'em down?). then the rest of the band came and they were total losers. they did buy us pizza, though.

anyway, the awesomest part of all of this is that i owned their cassette tape in 1992 and i thought that i was going to marry the guitarist! there was this totally cute picture of him with a honey bear and i knew that i wouldn't be happy until i found a man with such wit and candor!

sadly, he told me he's married. he's also a bit fleshier than i prefer my men these days.

around that same time in my life i thought i would marry tre cool from green day. i would stare at the posters in my room and swoon for his green hair and baby barrettes.

with such low standards, it's a wonder i'm single.

keys to my heart

ok, i had some major fortuitous synchronicity today. did i even use that f-word correctly? i don't give a care.

when i was walking to the gym this morning, i saw a dude drop two small objects out his window down to his lady. she caught these objects. i assumed they were keys. or maybe hershey's kisses (happy valentine's day, y'all!).

yadda yadda yadda ... i worked that body and when i was gearing up in the locker room to head home, i realized i had left my keys at home. i txted the roommate most likely to be awake before noon on a saturday asking if he was awake and home, and my battery light started flashing. that means it's about to die.

this is such a boring story, i'm sorry. anyway, to end it quickly, nathan was driving, found me on my walk home, we drove back to the crib, i ran upstairs with his keys and then dropped them out of my window to him (like the people i saw on my way to the gym!!!) and he went on a sushi date with a cougar.

this is where i was dropping keys:


this is my valentine's day outfit. crushers for crushin' hearts. kristina, did you once posses this shirt?

inspiration strikes

i've been thinking seriously about purchasing/building a silk screen lately. it's mostly laziness, rather than poverty, which has kept me from doing so.

anyway, jeff likes to dream up t-shirt ideas for us to wear to work so that customers will know the evil that lies behind our (my) smiles (he doesn't smile).

some examples?

"you are the reason i want to freebase"

"i don't have dna"

i don't remember any more.

i found this gem on this blog today and i'm realllly feelin' it:


that's worth a pack or two of iron-on letters so j.fox and i can be twins, right?

if this photo isn't a sign that we need to get on making shirts, i don't know what is.

how do i know you?

i'm sure what i'm about to blog about has already been blogged about many hundreds of times by many hundreds of bloggers in the b-sphere. whatever, i don't care.

i'd like y'all to help me with a moral (i'm not sure if that's really the type) dilemma.

the subject of the dilemma is friend requests on facebook from people that i've not even thought of in years. i know that they just want to look at pictures and see what i'm up to. but half the time, these requests are from peoples i wasn't even ever real-life friends with. maybe we'd smile at each other or something, but i can't imagine ever friend requesting them because i just don't care.

so, since i don't care, sometimes i'll accept, and other times i won't.

i feel so confused by this whole conundrum. who wants to see tagged photos of me where i look like this:


and this?:


so do i let these people i don't care about get a glimpse of the classy lady i've become? or do i reserve that privilege for people i sort of care about?

the way i usually decide: how badly do i want to look at pictures of these idiots requesting me? the most common answer: not badly enough.

international dopplegangers

two friends have told me about sightings of ally-clones in as many days.

yesterday, my mentor/pal/ex-boss sent me an e-mail informing me that my "bizarro" lives in australia. click here, and see me at 0:43. i agree with the similarity, brother jeff also agrees, though roommate nathan says nay.

just now, ian pickhisnose txted me: "your clone if your clone got facially abused and gained twenty pounds just walked into bombers in albany"

i asked him to try to take a secret cell phone photo but he said "shes so ugly she'll know why"

what is the significance of this rash of wannabes fillin' the eyespace of my friends? am i destined to get fatter, beaten, and move to Oz?

what's these are?

i don't know why i'm always feeling so uninspired. i am constantly barraged by crazy folks.

at dinner with the dynamic duo this weekend, wally said, 'why don't you blog about these people?!?' when i was recanting the story of telling rev. mickey that it's not okay to view "polish busties" on the house computer at the cafe.

today jeff stopped in to say hi and a "customer" (she didn't buy anything, but did tell me to give her ice water) held up a trial size free pack of dentyne ice. she said, 'what's these are?'

then, the woman that comes in just about every night for a cup of milk came in. first, she wanted to know if we had 'plain bread.' nope, just bagels. 'oh. i'd hate to go to jewel just for a slice of bread. do you mind if i post a note on the (bulletin) board?' sure. go for it.

behold:

i have an interview tomorrow for something that, should the interview go well, could reduce my contact with these crazies by about 50%. please think good thoughts for me.

in other news, holiday mantis finally got her act together and interpreted a dream for a friend. feel free to send me your dream accounts! and photos of palms for readin'!

look what i got!

seven-dollar sewing machine.

another day, another 11 dollars, another blog

instead of being grumpy during a really slow shift, i decided to create another blog.


it depends on participation from you, my faithful followers.

it is a place for me to practice my mystical know-hows. i plan to post horoscopes i write for customers at work, dream interpretations, accounts of clairvoyance and other cosmic wonders. also, i'm soliciting submissions from you of photos of your palms, handwriting samples, i have ideas of documenting tarot readings.

it's mostly for fun, though i do believe in a lot of this stuff.

check it out here.

soap and shampoo ran out on the same day

so i don't remember how our conversation turned from phish tapes to me declaring for the billionth time that i hope i don't live to see middle age, but last night adam gave me a really inspiring forecast of my future.

i said that i don't want to be middle aged because i fear a fupa and a husband that doesn't love me anymore.

he told me not to worry. that i'll be a "kooky frizzy-haired hippie" and that i'll marry a music teacher or an art teacher.

now, miss universe and i have predicted our older selves many times, hair styles and husbands included. but never has a prediction seemed so right. i think i will marry a music teacher.

i saw real auras

ok, pretty much all of you won't care about this, but i just want to make sure i remember.

tonight, i saw auras! of myself and others!

this post made me remember.

i'm not sure if it was my eyes adjusting to dimming lights, my body wanting so much of the water it just sweated out back, or my ESP fine-tuning itself, but i know this much: at the end of my class today when the instructor turned down the lights to signal the coming of the rest pose, i saw my aura and the auras of those around me in the mirror.

it was a big moment for me.

attn: kristina. this blog's for you

under immense pressure to write a blog on such an uninspiring day, i invite you to weigh in on an internal debate i've been struggling with for some time now:

why do stores decorate for stupid holidays?

i guess i understand christmas/hannukah displays because they are beautiful. but why did my manager go to the dollar store yesterday in search of valentine's day window clings? hearts don't make people want coffee.

on the same token, why do i always recognize groundhog day? something major must have happened to me as a child on a groundhog day. i put a lot of effort and forethought into this sign, which was relevant for only a day and lasted as long:


i began to really think about this tonight as i walked down clark street, coming down from a bikram yoga high (omg, everyone should try this a few times. the ultimate mind-body challenge. it equalizes my feelings of self-loathing and self-empowerment. and it's 100 degrees warmer than the chicago winter air). most stores/restaurants had decorated for valentine's day, a holiday which i think every american agrees is totally bunk.

i don't get it.

give me a boyfriend and maybe i'll understand. even then, i think i won't.

blah blah blah coffee shop blah blah blah

it's the end of an era.

today, we ran out of the patrick swayze coffee sleeves, and moved onto this atrocity:


though i was initially morally opposed to wrapping each to-go coffee in an advertisement for The Beast, i grew a bit Crazy for Swayze.

how am i supposed to work with this?!? there is no humor in a quaker oats granola bar. there is only sadness and sorrow. and, apparently, delight.

good synchronicity that happened this morning:

just as i was opening an e-mail from a friend linking to this article, i got a txt from him: 'Just going 2 mcd's this morn. They serve lattes now!'

i just 'bout keeled over and died. luckily he and his better half walked through the door about five minutes later.