the great big arch is half-lit (i'm an optimist)

This is why I really enjoy living here in Brooklyn: I was sitting at the computer earlier tonight, catching up on some e-mails. My aunt was reading a book nearby, and we both froze at the same time and looked at each other.
"Do you hear a marching band?" I asked her.
"I do. Why is that, I wonder," she said.
It turns out it was the lighting ceremony of the arch at Grand Army Plaza, where I live now. There is a magnificent arch, and every year the city decorates it beautifully for the holidays. Because this arch - The Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Arch (aka Brooklyn's Arc de Triomphe) - is less than a block away, we heard the whole thing.
So just now, after dinner with a friend, I walked down to look at the decorations after the crowds left. It was absolutely beautiful, the solemn concrete of the monument with the blue lighting they use at the holiday and a huge "tree" directly under the arch. I like to moan about soggy Christmastime advertising and straight-up delirious commercialism, but being alone at Grand Army Plaza tonight with my notebook and that blue light made me realize something; this Christmas, I have a strange, lovely and sad feeling of being alone but not really being alone - I'm in a city of millions, and all of us are in this together.
Tonight, I stood in the blue light of that tree with tears in my eyes and all at once I felt young and old, lost and found, unsettled and at peace in the city.

a note to my childhood friends about exercise

hi guys. i hope you are doing well in life; that things are going awesomely, that you are successful and having fun and experiencing all the wonderful things that come at this stage in our lives.
i just wanted to let you know that if you need anything from home (maybe you forgot some beloved baseball cards or a precious moments figurine when you left home on your foray into adulthood), let me know. i probably see your mom at curves on macomb street when i go to work out there each weekday.
here is why i love curves on macomb street: it is a nice, clean and friendly facility with good machines in excellent condition. and until today, i forgot about this next part, which makes this curves extra-special; they freak out and decorate the crap out of the place every time there is anything that could even remotely be considered a holiday. like halloween, for example. the grosse ile curves is basically a haunted ladies' low-impact gym right now! also, once in a while i run into someone's mom or aunt and i get all caught up on what's happening in a lot of my old friends' lives. it's nice to know what you're all up to.
conversely, here is what i dislike about the macomb street curves: i get called out a lot for sweating. okay. let me say something here about curves. yes, a lot of middle-aged and way older ladies work out there. yes, the machines are designed to allow even the frailest junior club member the ability to lift and lower the bar. but still. if you want to get a workout, you can really get a good workout! i've lost weight and inches since i started going again, and let me tell you something; that means i have to work really hard. and i'm a sweater. so that means i have to sweat. please do not comment about that fact. please do not mention to the nearby member of your conversation that it looks like i am "doing the work for all three of us." because that makes me feel lame about sweating, when i should not feel lame because people sweat when they work out. also, while it is great to hear how everyone is doing (see pros above) i do NOT like having to explain my decision to leave my job and move to new york like 983744 times. i can almost see the disbelief and pity wash over people's faces. it is not a good thing to see 4 or 5 times in a 30 minute work out. but that is the risk i run by getting my swerve on at curves grosse ile. and the sweet ladies who work there and/or the moms of my childhood friends, and the festive if not over-the-top decorations and the word puzzles on the wall and the clean well-maintained equipment and reasonable member fee all keep me coming back.
so. let me know if you want your mom to send your ass anything and i will pass along the message in between reps while i'm adjusting my sweat bands.
love,
krista

today on a very special "hot bed reports"

whoa. i'm on the other side. i feel like i've gone through some sort of birth canal from my life and apartment in grand rapids and have emerged, sweaty, disoriented and annoyed with my brother, on the other side; my parents' house.

yes, that's right. i'm back on the island, you guys. it's weird, but lovely and nice to be home at such an unsettled and uncertain time. i haven't posted in a while (duh) because it's just been too painful to shove all these freaky emotions in y'alls faces, because i could hardly look at it all head on myself. but, here's a quick synapsis of what has occured of late:

starting last week wednesday, i began to haltingly pack up my awesome apartment in grand rapids, readying myself to leave an amazing group of people who i love deeply in a town that i also love deeply to ... well, i don't quite know yet. something about moving to new york. there have been panicky thoughts of mistakes and failures and the brakes have half-heartedly been applied then released on my plan to move to NYC. but i'm doing it. i'm doing it.

bridie had a party for me my last night in town, which was saturday. it was the most intense and fun time ever. lots of crying. i came close to drowing half of the heritage hill historic neighborhood with my tears. they just kept coming. i'm grieving. it sucks. but from the ashes, i shall rise! and i shall be wearing urban clothing and ironic sneakers while rising! and i shall find my place in this goddammed world!

i miss all of you already. i think you should all come with me. we can all find our places together. spirit has great ticket prices, and there has to be some sort of group discount we can take advantage of. i'll look for a large "space" and it will be a sweetass commune in the city.

in the meantime, take care of yourselves. i leave for new york tomorrow. updates to follow.

what happens in ludington stays in ludington

it was an awesome weekend of camping and sunbathing and laughing and singing (well, kind of singing. actually "harmonizing" after a few PBRs is not recommended if you don't like cringing the next morning). it was a good chance to spend some time with a group of people i will very much miss when i leave this lovely west side of the state.

after arriving at ludington state park on saturday afternoon, bridie, sara, tonya and i efficiently made our camp site into a little home away from home, complete with a car, tent and a tiny pinwheel thoughtfully provided by sara. we then met up with boys from a different school for some fun in the sun. actually the boys from a different school were nate and dave. dave is a musician and a darn good one at that. we hung out in the sun, generally laughed a lot and talked about the good old days of being dorky (now that we're so far removed from that and everything). we had some pizza pudgie pies, a foil packet of zuccini (guess who made that) roasted some marshmellows and listened to some sweet rockabilly tunes late into the night.

at several points in the evening, i thought to myself, "hold onto this. don't let go of this moment." it's rare to have such undistilled moments of happiness. i'm not sure if those moments are improved or tempered by a realization that said moment is fleeting, but i'm really happy i had such a good time. glowing lanterns through dirty truck windows and the silouettes of pine needles against a brilliant night sky with lovely guitar playing softly and a campfire with friends - these are things that help contribute to really sweetass moments.

one dozen eggs = one dozen meals

It sucks to be broke. But I make a mean poached egg. Here is my recipe; feel free to copy it down, if you'd like.

First, set a pot of water boiling. Cry a little bit about how you're sick of eggs. If desired, season the water after it begins to boil. Rack your brain for ways to make a fast buck as you crack an egg into a measuring cup, noting how little food one egg really is. Submerge measuring cup into boiling water, releasing the egg into the water. Wander into the living room to pet the cat. Forget about the poaching egg. Return in a panic to the stovetop and boiling-over egg water. Salvage what you can, pat dry with a paper towel, and enjoy, preferably while watching VH1's "All Access: Celebrity Makeovers" or "Drug Years: 1965-1975"

***TIP: I find that placing the poached egg on a small "dessert plate" helps the meal seem larger and so much heartier.

Dear MSU PILOT, I miss you. Love, K.

I miss PILOT you guys. I can't remember what the acronym stood for, but it was this real rudimentary email system that michigan state used from probably 1990 until 2004. It was awesome because you could plunk down at any campus computer and check your email in like .4 seconds. It sucked though because your friends at, say, U of M or Calvin and such would email you gifs and jpegs of people falling off donkeys or sometimes stuff that made you want to vomit (like from emily smith) and you couldn't share in the fun. But that's what hotmail was for I guess. I was just remininscing about PILOT with my friend tim the other day and we thought we'd form some sort of PILOT outcry group to demand the system be reinstated. I'll keep you posted. (remember, to send an email, you just hit "s"!!! and to delete, you just hit "d"!!)

things are moving along in the big move to home of the dodgers, brooklyn squad. next week is my last week at work (mixed emotions there). I've had some nibbles for jobs. we'll see what happens. But I need to see everyone before I leave. I'm going to miss everyone terribly, but as Patrick reminded me, "you're moving to brooklyn. not mars." sometimes it feels like mars, though.

In other news, my father has purchased a "motorcycle." some of you know this already, but for those who don't, this is rich. He proudly unveiled the hog for me a couple of weeks ago, and as the garage door rose, it revealed what appeared to be an early-1990s dirt bike custom-made for a giant. complete with early '90s splashes of red, yellow and purple on white plastic, with purple plastic hand guards. He has a rusty red helmet my mother refers to as being "tight as an acorn cap," and mostly he takes this chariot all over the island to garage sales. I'm going to go ahead and agree with my mother here when she sighs and says, "well, at least it's not another woman."

Hope you're all well. I need to see a lot of people before I go, let's start planning some get-togethers.

where it begins and ends

Lots to report here. I'm tempted to just glaze over it all, but I won't. It's cathartic somehow to write about it all.

First, let me lead by saying that I will be moving to New York City at the end of August. No, I don't have a job yet, but I'm confident I'll find one (maybe even in writing!). I'm going to be with my aunt for a while, helping her out and enjoying Park Slope in Brooklyn, where she lives.

This was not an easy decision - there are a lot of people in Grand Rapids and Michigan in general who I will miss terribly. It's funny though - I've wanted to do this for a long time. And, suddenly, everything cleared up and here I am on my way. I'll be leaving my job July 29.

Secondly, my friend Laura Ferency is now Laura Matousek. She was married during the best weekend ever in Petoskey July 8. She looked beautiful, and I was breathless (actually, that sensation was caused by my dress which has probably caused permanent damage to my vital organs, Victorian corset-style). Congrats, Laura and Scott, you are truly awesome.

After the wedding, there was... a trip to a bar, a moment on the roof of the hotel (complete with a firework!), some down time reading in a hotel library, some green and sprinklers in a rose garden, some drunken phone calls, minor moments of panic when it was discovered i was locked out of the room, and finally, bed. A successful evening.

I'm so grateful I had this time with my friends before the big move. I'll be going to NYC Aug. 23-29 with Adrianne. We're going to cat sit for my aunt and try to get me all set up for the big move.

Hol-ee shit.