I am very careful not to write about my own religious beliefs here. In short, I am a believer in some sort of higher power and that’s all one needs to know.

While working this past weekend, I met this man who was wearing quite the bold and uncommon statement piece necklace. I asked for his permission to take a photo and proceeded to ask his story. He declared himself Agnostic.

I found it most surprising that he wore it to work—or rather that he wore this defaced rosary on a daily basis so much as to not care whether or not he was wearing it to work…equivalently mindless and mindful of his actions.

I also find it funny that my camera naturally picked up the bright light coming from the windows in the room, illuminating our controversial model with a saintly shadow. 

Vote.

Educate yourselves on the candidates and cast your ballot for the people who represent your views.

Be the difference you want to see in this world. A better world begins with you. So on and so forth. So go on and go forth! Vote!

She loves me for this. And she proved it by peeing outside of the litter box.

Happy Halloween from Harlequin!

The link above showcases samples of my work including photography, editing, and graphic design.

Below is a collection of my writing samples. Enjoy!

Feel free to contact me at nicolekruzel@gmail.com

All comments are welcome.

On prom night they said “Go outside, we have a surprise!” and it was fireworks.

Don’t schools know this is when the kids sneak back inside to have sex?

I was expecting fire throwers or a live cover band or something.

“Baby, lets make our own fireworks inside.”

Fool proof.

Trifecta.

(Next toy: KitchenAid Mixer)

^I lost my brothers’ teeny tiny toy dog this week. My parents are upset that I left them stuck with the cat, and they keep locking her outside, so she was smart enough to cut a hole into the screen door to get back inside. And of course the first and only day I am dog-sitting, little Mika escapes through the hole. When we were searching for her, they found an identical smashed-dead dog on the road.

“Is that Mika?”
“No, her tail is shorter.”
My Mom didn’t have the heart to say that pancaking the dog could have extended the tail’s length…

She was found an hour later. Alive. THANKYOUBABYJESUS.

^This picture is equivalent to how many times I like to subtly mention that I listen to NPR as I drive. The best quote so far, “Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese? -Job to God (JOB 10:10). Why couldn’t I have come across this quote back when I had required religion courses at DePaul? I would have LOVED to write a paper on THAT biblical verse!!

^I always wanted a pool! Thank you, Mother Nature!

^The intimidating Kruzel Garden.

^The intimidating Green Smoothie. I guarantee you, $1 million dollars, that if I know you, I will have you try this. Even just a sip. I will even re-enact the Jack LaLanne power juicer info-mercial if that’s what it takes. I’m even putting money on it! Health is no joke. (Don’t get me started.)

Single life is bearable. Even love songs on the radio begin to lose their impact and appeal. But sometimes life remits other funny reminders of your relationship status in the form of subtle mockery. I’m talking more than just seeing the teddy bears and photos lying around (…my teddy bear “Niles” is in the trunk of my car, body-bag style, and luckily my phone crashed and deleted many “happy” memories). Below are the most recent pleasantries I have come across:

Noticed while changing the sheets. What a terrible advertising slogan! Sure, it may be an attempt at calling the bed “large”, but who is “two”? Are they considering the cat a person?

Each of me is enjoying these mushrooms solo.

Check out my collage of the kitty acting human! Morning coffee, yoga, sitting at the kitchen table…

This must be why she is my “two”. I swear I’m not a crazy cat lady. But she is gorgeous..just like her Mommy!

Super excited for “The Volt” and other plug in hybrids, allowing your car to charge overnight… but what if you’re pulling an all-nighter and leading the rockstar life that I am? Are you f*cked come morning, waking up to a dead car? Or are these cars promoting beauty sleep, so you’ll actually go home and relax while your car charges so you have guaranteed transportation for the day? Insomniacs should invest in hybrids to try to fix their sleeping issues. I’d be the first in the News to have her stalled hybrid causing traffic on the highway. With every new (used) car I drive, I first research tankonempty.com to see how far my car will drive on E (I blame the Seinfeld episode in which Kramer does the same, and also my mother for allowing us to grow up with Seinfeld. It often goes back to childhood and how we were raised!). Life itself is a palindrome.

You know those rectangle shaped chips ahoy boxes with the plastic carton divided into 4 sections?
Well, have you ever eaten half the box of cookies, leaving only the last two rows full, thus resulting in a weight division between the two sides of the box? It’s now heavier to the left because that’s where all the remaining cookies reside.

So, in a sad attempt to disguise my cookie monster alias, I evenly distribute the remaining cookies, filling up those empty front rows and creating a uniform weight throughout. And instead of feeling self-loathingly guilty for my recent cookie binge, I laugh at my attempt to hide the evidence.

No where in the steps to recovery does it state finding amusement in your actions. Humor almost makes it okay, allowing for yet another cookie binge that will disengage the previous plan of spreading out the cookies, creating another more involved blue print of actually driving to the store to replace the ravishly eaten box of cookies. Yes, it’s sort of a secret mission. Finding fun and creativity in your negative actions is also a missing step in the recovery process.

…He went on to say the Cookie Monster clearly would have made more sense as a PMSing woman. If Dan doesn’t start a blog, I will share his ideas with the world somehow.




My mom stared at my boobs all day whenever talking to me so I could see what it feels like to be a big-breasted woman. Is this why women wear red lipstick? Since its the most eye-catching color and they attempt to lead the eyes upward? Do I need to invest in some trendy glasses too? And a silly themed hat? 

I think the cookie eating will help. Although that will be stopping soon…I am pleased to announce my latest blog “So Fresh and So Lean” all about raw cooking! No, this doesn’t mean I’ll be switching to raw cookie dough; just a healthier, vegan version of cookies and real meals. (Link to site will be posted soon). The girls and I are hosting weekly dinner nights and we’ll be (finally) learning to cook. (We might also be adding “Minute to Win It” games to our agenda).  I’ll be sure to add information about juice fasting as well. Cheers!

The BEST compliment I have ever received from another woman:

“I haaate you.”

She was older and meant it as a half joke, since my legs were basically my outfit. But this is why I’m retiring my mini skirts (for a week or so at least). I was granted with the incredible opportunity to be a (working) guest at the Royal Wedding Party at the Britain’s Consulate General’s Chicago condo. By the looks of my outfit, I’m sure most of the guests were wondering exactly what type of “worker” I was.

Johnny Walker Private Label (from Black all the way to Gold) was served, and a live Chamber music orchestra played. The entire event lasted no longer than 2 hours, but my fashion faux pas fiasco lasted well into the next day. I had no idea what type of an event I was in for, but I looked around and saw all the other ladies wearing knee-length chest-covering black dresses.

The photographer did ask my name, so I’ll be on the lookout for any published photos.
Mom’s joke: “You’ll be on the cover of a British magazine with the word ‘Americans’ written underneath.”

And of course, in typical Nicole style, I ran in the rain after the event with my heels off, sprinting to make sure there wasn’t a parking ticket on my car. Then I drove off to WalMart to purchase a few items for another job (Not those items, and not that type of job. I changed into pants to go into the store).

Guys, you have it easy.

Before my Xsport membership is up and I start exercising outdoors, I must use that rock climbing wall. And since no one I know has a membership, I get to be that girl who hassles the desk boys for help. Yay. I get to be THAT girl…might as well climb it in my mini skirt.

I guess you guys have it easy in some other ways too.

Its unavoidable and worth the effort…we used to climb my parent’s brick house when we were younger. (Some of the bricks stick out a bit as if its meant to be dominated.) Still never attempted climbing a tree though. Summer goal number 99999999. Oooo, maybe for apple picking in the Fall. It’d be nice to finally learn and taste ALL of the apple varieties.

And as if you readers haven’t caught on already, this post also serves as date ideas for your women:

1. rock climbing

2. apple picking

3. johnny walker

4. walking in the rain

Sitting on the couch, playing a video game involving rock climbing, eating an apple and drinking Johnny Walker while its raining outside counts. It just doesn’t guarantee the mini skirt. (Sorry, I totally just wanted to say miniskirt again, because even I think they give a sexy visual).

Bauble to the past, resting gently in his bedside drawer.
Did it fall off in a moment of passion and get pushed aside, forgotten?
Did he keep it as a souvenir; token of desire?
Vintage floral pennant. Bordered with a delicate array of pretend pearls.
Fake gold. Cheap.
Speaks much of its owner.
She skillfully clasps together the broken ends, having them meet at the back of her neck.
A statement piece.
He’ll never notice it was gone…
or would he?
Dare she wear it in his presence?
Already, her own disposition replaces its primary.

History rewritten, but not erased.

I understand that stories/poetry/lyrics are sometimes meant to be left open to interpretation, but this is sort of a “regifted wedding ring”-esque feel. It explains why women are crazy. Why we outwardly seem not to have any direction to our agenda, when really it is built upon all of the tiny bricks placed atop one another, until those bricks come tumbling down due to our own huffing and puffing. It’s how we come across aspects of your past, and how we choose to react to them. It might provide us women with an old necklace containing a new meaning, a dramatically cultivated journal entry…or both.

All in all, the age old adage “You’ll feel better if you put on some lipstick” may ring true. For men, too—maybe. Boystown seems to know whats up.

Both my best and worst writing comes from an other-worldly state of mind when I’m simultaneously asleep and awake. This particular piece is something that, when I awoke, I believed did not exist but I wasn’t too sure. Luckily, I found record of it in my iphone notepad…

April 7, 5:51am.
Topic: My brain.

Yarn
Color pink

No, yellow
Unraveled from it’s prepackaged ball
Lying in a heap, you take both your hands and cup it semi-tight
Little rivlets of never-ending string
Add some water to get the juices flowing

And so, in an attempt to accompany my poem with a photograph, I proceeded to search Google images for “wet yellow yarn”. Can you guess what the most common picture was?

??

It was mostly photos of soggy, dirty wet yellow mop heads.

How fitting. Sometimes my brain is an intricate pattern of strings running together to form a thick, sturdy and buoyant lifeline…and sometimes it’s simply a wet yellow mop head.

What great imagery this will provide for the next cleaning day!

Chemical life. No life without. Mind games. Brain battles. Make a moment last longer than an hour, a thought linger for more than a second of a chance. Attempt a reattempt…Constant circles. No break. No end. Fake doesn’t break, not even faux a minute.

Can’t fix it if you don’t learn. You won’t learn unless you allow yourself. You won’t allow yourself because…just because. What is there to fix if nothing is broken, because nothing can break if it’s fake. Fake is a feeling. Feelings will fake you. Can you fake a feeling if it’s all untrue? Nonexistent still exists, at least for a second of a thought. Second chance. Life caught—stuck—in romance.





I was wondering and almost googled if theres a website that predicts how long your car can act as a refrigerator for certain foods, and it took waaaay too long to realize that this is crazy, lazy, gross thinking.


Overheard (overly adorable) train conversation:
STUMBLING DRUNK GIRL: Wow, I hate my knees.
PUSHOVER SOBER BOY:   Don’t hate your knees, hate the shoes.


A good friend told me this story, related to my name (The name’s Nicole, in case you didn’t already know):
King Napoleon was throwing a dinner party and wanted to serve a new, incredible bread. When  his servants presented him with their masterpiece, he took a bite, spit it out, and exclaimed, “I would never feed this to my guests! This is pumpkernickel!!” …or in French, “bon pour Nicol”, which translates into “for Nicol”, Nicol being his beloved horse.

So, upon researching this story to gather validity, I came across ANOTHER interesting take on the term:
Pumpernickel is also a German noun, from pumpern, to break wind + nickel goblin; from its reputed indigestibility. (Nickel also being a form of the name Nicholas, commonly associated with the devil. Furthermore, pumpernickel is the “devil’s fart”, due to its ill digestive effect on those who consume it.


And all my life I thought being called Nickelodeon was bad. Five to the face for those who use Pumpernickel.

^When thesaurus.com -ing for a paper on feminism, the word “male” came up as a synonym for “power”. Ugh. Really?!

^Random racism found on Craigslist.