curse you Q Tips

i've spent too much time today wondering why they call a Q-Tip a Q-Tip.  where does the "q" come in? what does it stand for?  it's got me perplexed. and little things like the origin of cosmetic paraphenalia nomenclature should not so completely consume my day.

i big shout out and "thank you" to one of my biggest fans and loyal readers Shelly.  this saint of a woman sent me a box of Nutella.  i move that she be cannonized and submitted for ACTUAL sainthood immediatly.  Make it happen, Interweb Genie!!

Thoughts on two actors.

Matthew Broderick; what happened dude? you charmed us all with your witty retorts and cheeky quips in Ferris Beuller's Day Off, and then you went all Bat-Shyte-Brain-Damaged and forgot how to stand in front of a camera and act.  i keep handing you chances, i keep trying to stomach your misfortunate sinking ship of a career but you're not giving me much to work with here.  perhaps you've floundered because even though you are probably 67 by now, your fresh young face still comes across as an unproved lad of 17 and i cannot take you seriously as an adult as a result. 
i came across a movie of you yesterday with Alec Baldwin in it and i thought; "hey... Alec Baldwin's in this one... can't be too bad..." and i forced myself to stare at it for about 20 minutes before i turned the appropriate shade of green and, in my mind's eye, proceeded to shower my living room electronics in "disappointment vomit". 
Bottom Line; it might be time to just give it up, Matthew. maybe go into retail.  i think you'd do very well as a friendly Petco grooming technician.  maybe a Jamba Juice Smoothie Sultan.


Marky Mark; you are my new favorite actor.  you deliver lines with such grace and majesty, it makes me feel like you are truly, truly "a peacock" who "needs to fly on this one".  i think my appreciation for your art began whilst i watched you talking to trees in that Shamalamalan movie where the plants turned murderous and needed to be appeased.  i look forward to your work with shrubbery. and marmots.  possibly fudge. i believe that you could be a top-notch chef too, in addition to being God's Gift To The Silver Screen if you gave it a go. 
That's it. i challenge you to a Bake Off.  can't wait to put your Hazelnut Biscotti Mini Torte in my mouth.  it would be Mastication Admiration.


i'm now willing to accept the fact that my Ipod, my trusty MintI FreshPod is gone. possibly dead and gone. but more likely some cracka-ass cracka stole it.  i checked the lost and found at the ymca today, and the lady behind the counter just laughed at me when i asked her if someone had turned it in... my eyes brimming with tears and my voice strained with loss and pain and threadbare hope.

so, in my grief, i've written this small goodbye.

MintI FreshPod, 2007-2010.
You were a friend, a trusted companion, a go-to Boredom Erradicator, and a sweet hip shade of pastel green.  You contained everything from Jay-Z and Kanye ICan'tSingWithoutAutotune West, to Imogen Heap and Damien Rice. (or "ya-ya" music as my dad calls it.)
I admit, I wasn't as good to you as you were to me. I dropped you on occasion; hell, i drop-kicked you more often than not. mostly on accident. i tucked you into my spandex tops at the gym.  i soaked you with sweaty, sweaty, sweat-sweat.  you got countless foodstuffs and dead skin cells mashed onto you and for all these crimes, i apologize.
Perchance if i'd been nicer and a tad more nurturing and "responsible" or whatever then maybe you wouldn't have run off with the first jackass you saw.  i bet you're on the streets, turning tricks for money and snorting blow.  you always did have a self-destructive streak.  it was only a matter of time before you got sucked into the seedy underbelly of this renagade town.
but i digress.  you encouraged me to keep going. i got knocked down. but i got up again, cuz you neva gonna keep me down. and you told me that "i can see yo' halo". but most of all, you kept it real. you always spit da truf. and da truf is dat "girls, they wanna have fun". 
And so it is with heavy heart, guilty mind, and empty earballs that i say adieu to my minty green friend.  Rest in piece my friend. or pieces.  i dunno, maybe you got smashed to all smithereens. who's to say. Farewell.

*sidenote: if you would like to donate to the "help Krista buy herself a gently used Ipod" fund, the orangey-yellowy button is at the top right of the page. thanks!*



dry your tears, my friends. let's move on.


um, i might be sterile.  so, i hope y'all are getting your fill of my adorable son, Ronin on my facebook page cuz he might just be the only rugrat that this uterus pops out. he's pushing 10 months old, and i haven't reacquainted myself with my Aunt Flo' yet, so i'm starting to think that it's just never going to happen again. i can already feel the cobwebs forming on my fallopian tubes and dust settlling in my ovaries. sheesh.  i guess those five boxes of Anticipatory Tampons i've been hoarding are just going to go to waste.  any suggestions as to what i should do with 300 or so unused tampons? please email your suggestions to Ldskrista03@yahoo.com


Christmas is right around the proverbial corner, y'all. Come sit on my knee and let me spin you a yarn. or as you Yankees would say, let me tell you a story.

Christmas was always a magical time for me growing up. i LOVED it. i made cookies for santa, slept on the couch after i passed out from exhaustion caused by anxious bouncing off the walls and waiting up for hours to catch a glimpse of the Man In Red, the whole nine yards. one year i got the brilliant idea that Santa's reindeer probably needed feeding too.  after recruiting my younger sister and partner in crime, and armed with Ziploc Snack Sized baggies, we scaled the two tall oak trees in the yard to harvest what my little brain had deemed the only suitable fodder for North Polean Reindeer.

Tree Bark. 

We spent hooooooooours up there stripping the supple bark away from the tree trunks and branches and stuffing it all into baggies. after a few days i concluded that we had enough tree bark put away to feed the small army of reindeer that would be stopping by to drop off our Good Behavior Incentive Packages soon.  on Christmas Eve i put the pouches onto the fireplace next to the plate of cookies for Santa and took up my usual post on the couch to wait for The Jolly One. 
The next morning i awoke to find the cookies gone (of course, no surprise there. though now that i'm older i wonder why i never ate Santa's cookies? i mean, i never even made an attempt. and they were free cookies, too. hmm. kids are funny).  when my eyes fell on... hmm.. that's an odd expression. "my eyes fell on...blahblahblah". that'd be pretty gross for eyeballs to actually fall on things that you're looking at. Love at First Sight? contemplate and discuss, my friends.

but i digress.

my "eyes fell" on the Reindeer Tree Bark Food bags to find that.... GASP*!!!! there seemed to be bite marks around the corners where the reindeer had bitten the bags to get at the bark!!!! Holy Cannoli the Reindeer had EATEN the food i left for them!! i was so so very proud of myself and happy that these gentle beasts had accepted my offering. it was a perfect Christmas miracle.

years later, i was told that my loving mother had cut the scalloped shape into the bag to give the illusion that it had been torn by reindeer teeth, and that the oak trees outside had died a horrible death due to me depriving them of their respective protective layers of bark.  Tree fungi are vicious little bitches, aparently.

at least i kill for good, and never for evil.  i guess Santa never held it against me. after all, he is my dad.


Merry Christmas, y'all. and a Happy Chanukah to my Jewish home-fries!!