nataliekresen’s posterous

Stumbling through... 

Please Fasten Your Seatbelts

Today I fly home. I hope this time will be different, hope I'll finish my whole can of ginger ale during the flight. The flight. Hope something will happen to me while I'm gone, something significant. Because one must understand something significant before she trusts to walk on new ground...

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limbs & flesh (a poem about spooning)

The fetal position:
a weird 
vulnerable, pitiful position--
 
infantile really.
 
Yet still we
seek comfort decades after the
separation from our mothers' insides,
 
we seek another's cool belly
to our warm back.
--protect me--
 
As if we're not going through this
alone.
 
As if lovers can conquer

the essence of life

with their warm hands, their
curved spines like
a mother's womb

enclosing us in
limbs & flesh,
while our bodies lay
curled inside:
a wet worm in the rain 
 
 

 

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Filed under  //   poem  

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Lazy Saturday Afternoons...

What do you do when you leave your phone at the office on Friday and you are totally isolated from communication the next day? You drink a pot of coffee and take random pictures of your apartment to pass the time. Right? Anyone? 




                                 
Click here to download:
Lazy_Saturday_Afternoons....zip (9214 KB)

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Why I ♥ New York

Reason #98:


Street Parties


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Filed under  //   why i love NY list  

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This Spit Was Magnetic

Ah! What is it with loose lipped people? How do you not know when spit is flying out of your mouth? Ewwwwwww. Come on man; our mouths are not made to be spray bottles, you're not cooling anyone down with that...

I went to a holiday party a few nights ago. Due to a series of cirmcumstances, I ended up going alone. A-l-o-n-e. Now, I am a big fan of spending time with one's self; I've gone to my fair share of movies and lunches and coffee shops alone, but a party? No one wants to go to a party alone. I walked around the icy block one more time than necessary so as not to be one of the first eager guests to arrive.

Once my hands were properly chapped and my hair, thoroughly wind blown, I decided it was a good time to enter. To my surprise and delight, I ran into a friend at the coat check. Sigh-- a partner for the night. We proceeded into the party.

It was after my second glass of wine when 'he' approached. At first I just wanted to be nice, felt bad for him really. He was an older gentleman, wiry grey hair, slightly puffy eyes, tall. Sentence after sentence, the spit began its erratic dance from the inside of his lips to my cheek, eyes, lips, hair. It was a disgusting performance that I wanted no part of. Like when you're pulled into a dance circle and you've two left feet. Panic. As each new word formed, I tried to withdraw, dodge, hide my once clean face but this spit was magnetic and just kept coming.

I used Match(spit).com for awhile (spit). You (spit) know, you have to put your (spit) income on there (spit). Wom(spit)en won't even (spit spit spit) look at you if you're (spit) below a cer(spit)tain bracket.

What was I to do? Listening to one sentence, I felt like I was leaning over the railing at Niagara Falls. I began talking rapidly, incessantly, so as not to leave him time to form new wet words.

Oh,youknowanywomanwhowouldcareaboutthatisnotworthyourtime. Breathe. I'msureyou'llfindsomeonerightforyouyoujusthavetobepatient...

How was I to tell this man that his dates were going down the drain because he showered them with drool instead of compliments? Speaking of showers, it was about 4 minutes into the conversation when I realized I desperately wanted one. Oh soap, I've never missed you so much.

What did I do? What any rational wet woman would do. I motioned to another girl, Well, what about her? I think she smiled at you? And when his giant rain cloud of a mouth turned, I downed the last of my wine. Shoot, I'm all out I lifted my glass as a signal of its emptiness as well as a shield to block any forthcoming spittle. I'm off to get more and that 'more' turned into me running for the door...

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Filed under  //   embarassing moments  

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The Holidays Will Start Being Fun When...



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You Were in Someone Else's Hand...

I saw you today as I turned the corner at 28th and 6th, you were in someone else's hand, the memories came rushing back-- you, me, fingertips touching. It made me sick. 


I remembered how it felt to have you inside me, that heady buzz, shortness of breath, you loosened my limbs with your power, you made me all mellow and sleepy. Oh how I loved to hate you and love you, deny you and indulge you. There were days when I was totally consumed and hour after hour all I could do was push you to my lips over and over again. And how I suffered when I left you. Even now, walking down the street, I'll smell you, your scent rising between someone's shoulders on the sidewalk. And it brings a yearning to my heart.
 
But it was never meant to be for us. You made me sick, dog tired, I'd lose my appetite and stop eating.  And after I quit you, I felt better, looked better, performed better. You were killing me yet still I yearned for you and our tumultuous on-again off-again relationship. Even now after all this time, there are moments when I wonder what it'd be like to pull your skinny little body out of my cellophane wrapped pack, place you to my lips and with the strike of a match, inhale you and breathe you back out again. Oh my little lost cigarette, if only we could have had one last smoke together...

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Filed under  //   cigarettes   love   personal reflection  

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Everybody Get Stuffed!


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Filed under  //   food  

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Why I ♥ New York

Reason # 99:


(we are so damn creative!)


   
Click here to download:
Why_I_New_York.zip (1662 KB)

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Filed under  //   food   why i love NY list  

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What Is It With Will Power?

Many people mistakenly overestimate the role of will power...
                                                                                  -- Carl G. Jung
 
My friend works out. She works out hard, running, lifting weights, going to the gym. She's strong and disciplined and devoted. She called me the other day, a hint of sadness in her voice, ' I can't stop eating at night. During the day I am so good but at night I reach for potato chips, dip, cheese, brownies, whatever is around.'   
 
It's like as soon as we say 'I can't' something else takes control and drives us. I once told a guy, I can't talk to you anymore and then I waited a few hours, maybe even a day before I reached out to him. Can/Can't Yes/No-- what's so wrong with the grey area? It's all fuzzy in there, nothing is defined, anything and everything can happen in the 
shit,-I-don't-know room.
 
The problem with that is the good, bad, and ugly can be in there too. A very adventurous friend of mine told me about a trip he took to a dark room. I, being my naive self, started asking him all sorts of questions like, how long did you wait to expose the film, what kind of chemicals did you use? etc, etc. Until his facial expression made me stop. What? I squeaked out, sensing I had misunderstood.
 
Apparently the dark room he had visited was a club where all the lights were turned off, everyone got naked and groped around for other bodies in the dark, using their fingers as a guide. Yikes.
 
Sometimes I feel that's what the grey area of life feels like. When you lose your will power, when you slip up, or unleash, or simply let go, you are suddenly naked, exposed, feeling through the darkness with nothing as your guide. Will you fall into a tightly toned decision or end up mashing your fingers into someone's lumpy back?
 
But as there are two sides to a coin, so too are there two sides to any situation. And while we can harness our will power and suppress our desires, they can still come out, and in funky ass ways. And besides, what's so wrong with fully living life, giving up control, enjoying the moment, and freeing ourselves of all the rules we adhere to everyday?
 
It's topics like this that tangle me all up, confuse and bewilder me and leave me struggling to chose. Should I or shouldn't I, lights on or lights off? Do those Clapper folks have it? When in doubt, change your mind? And with the clap of your hands, you'll be back in the white light, safe, stable, and at peace being good (but bored)...

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Filed under  //   personal reflection   will power  

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