i'm updating for lia. lia lia, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow. my. miiind.

well. i feel like a steaming pile of death poo. i went to the coheed & cambria show with my brother last sunday night, and i may have overdone it. just a tad. i pounded four lagers and did a shot of jager in between three's set and coheed's set, then rejoined my brother. coheed came on. i died a little inside. they opened with "the crowing," which is my AB - SO - FUCKING - LUTE favorite coheed song. i turned around, hugged my little brother, and proceeded to bite the shit out of his arm [by accident!] because i was so excited. and a little drunk. just a little.

for those of you who know [and adore] coheed, you know that to sing along with them requires screaming in your best falsetto. doing so for over an hour [while intoxicated] combined with my [blood-curdling] screeching and wild [drunken] flailing about results in a loss of voice. i had no voice for the next 24 hours, and when it came back, i sounded like an 87 year old frog on its last leg croaking its very last croak. a dying, cancer-riddled, virgina-slims-smoking, jewish frog.

so when i woke up and felt like there were rusty nails in my lungs and broken screws in my throat, i decided that it must be laryngitis. but then several days later when my nose started running and my lungs started filling up with... well, you don't want to know what they were filling up with... i decided that it must be bronchitis. where the hell i contracted fucking acute bronchitis from, i have no idea. i proceeded to spend $22 at CVS on echinacea cough drops, vitamin C pills, vapor rub, robitussin, tissues, breathe right nasal strips and some more tissues. because krissie doesn't have health insurance anymore because krissie is a bum and isn't in school anymore and her father's insurance dropped her because of that. krissie doesn't have a job, either, and can't afford to go to a clinic to get much-needed antibiotics to kill off the evil, filthy phlegm beast that is currently shooting off it's diabolical-sputum-worm-baby seed in her lungs.

hence, i feel like a steaming pile of death poo.

and i've also been watching waaay too much invader zim. it's getting bad. very bad.

what else, what else...

i'm watching fear and loathing in las vegas with my boo boo kitty fuck [linh]. brilliant movie. "did you see what god just did to us, man?!" i read an article about johhny depp in vanity fair recently. he's just so... just so... magnificent. i heart him.

speaking of...

i told john last night that i loved him. yeah. i don't know exactly how it went. we were both drunk, lying in bed, just had sex. it kinda went something like this:

me: "i have to tell you something."
john: "what?"
me: "it's really scary..."
john: "...what is it, baby?"
me: "ok, i'm not actually going to say it, though. give me your hand."
he gives me his hand, palm up. i trace on his palm with my finger.
john: "what?"
i retrace it on his palm again, slower this time.
john: "huh?"
now i'm frustrated, because i don't want to say it. because if i say it, it makes it real. but he's just. not. getting. it.
me: "come here."
he leans in, and i w h i s p e r it in his ear. "i love you."
me: "you don't have to say anything, i just needed to tell you."

and then he pulled me in closer, kissed me, and we went to sleep. he didn't freak out. THANK FUCK, he didn't freak out. i didn't expect him to say it back, i'm perfectly ok with him not saying it yet. i was just going out of my fucking mind. i wanted to say it, i needed to say it. it felt like i should say it. when we say goodbye on the phone, it feels wrong that i don't say it.

so i did.

w h o o s h .

so, i had my portfolio review on wednesday. i think it went well, despite the fact that i cried. twice. i know, i know, my name is kristin and i'm the biggest art slut pussy in the whole world. she asked me why i wanted to do art for a living, and i choked. i said something like, "i don't know quite how to explain it... i've been doing this for my entire life. i was born to do this, this is who i am, this is what my life is about. it took me so long to get here, and now i'm finally here, and i just... need to do this. it saved my life." that's when i started to cry. i'm just chalking it up to a combination of nerves and my intrinsic emotional state of mind. later on, she walked me through the junior painting studios, and i was looking around at all of them doing what i want to do - what i know i should be doing - and i lost it again. i just want it so badly.

but, despite all of that, i think it went well. i wish i knew when i would hear from them as to whether or not i'm in. that would lift a huge weight off of my chest - knowing if i've gotten into school or if i need to bust my ass trying to get into a different one.

keep your fingers crossed.

i want to write more, but i don't know what to write about.

oh! my [future] roommates and i are having a halloween party. if i know you in real life and haven't emailed you about it yet, leave a comment or email me and i'll send you the info. COME TO MY PARTY. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. COOOME TO KRISSIE AND HER HALLOWEEN-Y GOODNESS. MMM... HALLOWEEN-Y GOOOOOODNESS. ok, enough.

i'm gonna be a pirate. arr. a HOT-ASS pirate. mmm... pirate-y goodness.

i recognize that i'm an ass. i embrace this ass-ness with my entire little black heart.

"if the pigs were gathering in vegas, i felt the drug culture should be represented as well." i'm still watching fear and loathing. this movie makes me want to do d r u g s. hard drugs. i want me some druuugs. whimper.

oh, here's something fun:

Jason Schwartzman is Your Future Husband


Who is Your Future Husband?
brought to you by Quizilla

that's a damn good picture of jason schwartzman, too.

did you ever notice that christina ricci is in almost every single johnny depp movie? she's my hero. one of them.

ok, i think i've wasted enough time on here. i wish i had more to write about, but you're all probably sick of my prattling on about nothing. maybe next time i write i'll have something interesting to talk about. like stories about having crazy monkey sex with john. not that you'd want to read about that, but i love writing about it.

anyway. linh's gonna go get me a sandwich and some caaandy from wawa. "hi, floor! make me a SAMMICH!"

i love invader zim with a passion that runs deep and red. he fiils me with goo. love goo.