Gina

Gina.

My roommate in my second first apartment.

I had gone to high school with her. She was a year older than I, but it never felt that way. She had always told me that she thought I was crazy in high school. I never really asked her to ellaborate. We just kind of left it at that. I never told her that I had thought similar of her. She always dated the weird kids and had this comic book aura about her. As if she thought she was a super-hero. I had a creative writing class with her and we were friends in that "we're both weird" sort of way. She, too, was vegan. Since there were a whopping seven of us in school that shared that lifestyle and ideal, we all just kind of stuck together. They called us the "weak kids." (Or maybe it was a play on words-- "week," because we were seven, and "weak" because we never ate meat?)

Gina seemed to be the perfect roommate. She was not one of those girls that acts like a girl. She was an absolute germophobe, very clean, very much to herself, and I knew she wouldn't be having little cheerleader-reject friends around all the time. She was the perfect candidate. Her boyfriend basically lived there with us. He was a classic example of an emo-boy. He was tall, abnormally skinny, wore fake leather shoes (black of course), girl pants, and black button up shirts. He had a few tattoos and his ears were gauged. The perfect stereotype. He was only around for the first few months though. Suddenly, they "broke up" and Melanie, Gina's best friend, started hanging around more and more.

I knew Melanie was a lesbian. I had interacted with her before through Utah Animal Rights Coalition. She was a very active and open lesbian. (In fact, I'm sure she's responsible for the sterotype lesbian I had created. She was, in fact, the first "out of the closet" lesbian I had met.) She was a very masculine woman. She had a black semi-mohak, wore cut-off Dickies, dirty t-shirts, and Converse shoes. She had a cattle-style nose ring and hairy legs. That all said, she still was a very beautiful woman.

I think it took about three weeks before I realized that the "friendship" they had had blossomed into a new lesbian love. I was in the kitchen cooking something up and noticed the flirting right away. It was like someone dropped a water balloon on my head. All of a sudden I could see it all. It was actually somewhat amusing to me. I should have put two and two together. The more I saw of Melanie, the less I saw of Jason. They spent every minute together giggling and wrestling and all that flirty-type stuff.

I observed them awhile longer before I got the nerve to ask, "So.... are you two together?" It's not so much that the question is hard to ask, but more that the answer could be hard to react to. If they were not together, than I had just "accused" them of being lesbians, which could be an insult to many. If they were, what do I say? Congratulations? Wow? I always knew you were bi-sexual in high school? I think I muttered out something along the lines of, "Ahh... I figured." That's all I really remember from that night. I went on cooking. I assume we all ate it. They raved about how good it was, I'm sure. Then I probably went over to Andrew's, as usual.

And that was that.

No wonder I got along with her so well in high school-- my suspicions were correct. Ends up she was more "guy" than "girl."

One night, Andrew and I ate decided to start at my house and eat some mushrooms. My apartment was right downtown, within walking distance of everything. We ate the mushrooms and walked over to the Gateway Mall to catch a laser light show at the planetarium. It was one of those "Classic Rock" shows that will mesmerize the sober mind. Our minds were anything but sober. We were still relatively coherent when the show began. By the end of the show, I was surprised we made it out of there alive. The dome we were in to watch the show seemed to follow us out of the show and into the outdoor mall. I walked around as if I were in a snowglobe. I felt as though everyone were staring at us like we were a snowglobe. I could feel them shaking me up with their eyes. The sky above me was rounded and suffocating.

We somehow made it home from the Planetarium. We got back to my apartment and sat out on the couch. Gina and Melanie were both there, giggling as usual in her bedroom. When they realized we were home they both came out. They must have been doing something embarrassing, because the conversation that followed was less than amusing. It was one of those conversations you have as a cover-up. (Like the time I was almost caught smoking marijuana in my parents’ basement in high school… another story for another time). It was forced on both sides. They were feigning an interest in our day, and we were feigning an interest in explaining. We were both insanely shrooming and the whole conversation was a blur (even then). But then, the unexpected happened. Melanie had burned some microwave popcorn (not out of character) and was sitting there in front of us eating it with that sly grin on her face. She would purposely drop a piece on the floor, proclaim, “oops…” and pick it up and eat it. Gina was hysterical… “stop… ewww…. Disgusting….” You get the idea. The more Gina was disgusted by her actions, the more Melanie would drop… until she finally dropped nearly the whole bag on the ground.

Who needs a laser show when you have two lesbians to watch quarrel and flirt?

Gina was the kind of girl you love to hate. As I was eighteen and living on my own, working my ass off and providing for myself, she was on the "daddy scholarship." Her parents lived in Oklahoma and sent her money whenever she needed it. They would deposit into her bank account and let her spend freely. As long as her tuition was paid for the classes she never attended, she could do as she wished with the remaining money. In a way, it was nice to have her dad in our corner. He paid for our internet connection, and about 75% of the groceries in our kitchen. At the same time, he made me appreciate my money and my purchases that much more. I was more careful about how I spent money and what I spent it on. However much it could irritate me, her dad was a nice roommate to have-- never around, but he always paid the bills on time.

I'm starting to realize that I have a lot I can possibly say about Gina. She was around when Andrew and I first started dating. In fact, we ended up at her house downtown drinking for a good portion of the early dating. Before I moved out on my own, my best friend Megan and I would come downtown and barbecue with her and her friends in the grassy median on her road.

After I moved out of that apartment I kind of stopped talking to her. Andrew and I moved into a duplex together, and her and Melanie moved into a trailer in Rose Park. Gina-- the germaphobe I knew from high school, living in the "bad" part of town in a one-bedroom trailer in a trailer park. How times can change....

I still ponder the question: "If men turn into emaculately clean and tidy human beings when they discover their homosexuality, then how is it that women turn into slobs?"

Krista Nicole Stoker McReynolds

This is me.

Krista Nicole Stoker McReynolds.

I own a home, a husband, two fabulous dogs, and one horrific cat.

I work 45 hours a week, have my AAS in Paralegal Studies, am about 6 inches away from my AS degree for my general studies, and have a scholarship with my name on it to the University of Utah to study whatever it is I decide to study.

I am 21 years old.

My husband was diagnosed with Peripheral T-Cell Lymphoma 4 months after we were married. We spent our first Thanksgiving together as a married couple at the Hunstman Cancer Hospital awaiting a diagnosis. Since November, he has endured approximately 8 cycles of intravenous chemotherapy, 10 cycles of intrathekal chemotherapy (into his spinal fluid), a minor surgery placing a shunt into his forehead, and most recently, he is recoverying from a bone marrow transplant. To date, we have paid over $8,000 in medical bills (in just 8 short months). We are 2 weeks shy of our 1 year anniversary.

I am 21 years old.

One day I would love to live on a beach somewhere. I want to go to Law School and become an attorney. I want to open a vegan diner somewhere and share delicious homecooked vegan food with the world. I want to travel. I want to be successful.

But mostly,

I want no longer to be 21.


My happy little family.... (Moxie and Raven, left; Daisy and Andrew, below; Moxie, right.)

Introduction to 21

The only thing better than carring a notebook and a pen around, waiting for inspiration or memories to hit, is to always have a place of outlet: a place where I can compound and refer back to my ideas and memories of the past/future.

21 is my newest project.

It is an autobiography.

It will include most likely a jumbled recollection of memories, trials, and victories in pursuit of happiness. My initial plan is to first just write. Just record those memories as they come to me. Nothing more. No organization, no pre-determined format, nothing. Just raw writing.

Once I can get that down,

I will have somewhere to work from and one day maybe, I will put together this actual book.

I am hoping that perhaps someone may come along and accidentally run into this blog and could provide some feedback on what to do more of, what not to do, what they liked, what they did not like, if something was entertaining or not. Anything, really. <>

I am excited to begin... and yet overwhelmed with all the information running through my head.

<>"If you wrote a book about your life would someone read it?"

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