September 4, 2014

Starbucks Girl

I live a life of quiet dignity. Which is to say I live alone, and unfucked. But, like most of you I’m sure, I’m as complicated as it comes. At night when I can’t sleep, I make lists in my head. “Number one, make a list Check mark. That was easy.” It’s like I’ve already succeeded! I find it numbs me to sleep on those nights I need numbing to sleep. Did I mention the unfucked thing? Other times I lie there and I think of practical jokes I might play on my cat. Wouldn’t Mr. Noodle be surprised if his bowl was on the top step?

Every morning I go into Starbucks. I move past the pretty half-shirt girls ordering complicated coffee drinks. I order tea. I’m already an outsider. I like to keep my interactions to a minimum. If I ordered a fancy coffee, everyone would look when they called out my name.

“Chandra! Neven! Marzipan!”… I hate drawing attention to myself. I pee at home. I can’t stand having to ask for the bathroom key. Why is the bathroom key dangling off that degrading length of wood anyway? Why would that piece of wood need to be so long? Are they contemplating some trouble in there? An ambush? Hoowah! Is it some kind of exclusive club? Hardly. Because I know, as we speak, a homeless guy is in there rotating his clothes.

I order tea. But at night, I imagine if I ordered a fancy coffee, what my Starbucks name would be. Corrindifer. Corrindifer breaks hearts with a glance. Her cat is not named, Mr. Noodle, her cat is named “Cocaine,” and not because he’s white in color, but because she actually does cocaine off of him. Corrindifer doesn’t wear panties, because she left them in some guys glove compartment. Corrindifer says things like, “Listen, are you going to suck my tits all night, or are you going to fuck me?” Honestly, I’m not sexy and I know it. I don’t really have one of those bodies. If a bit of my stomach does show, someone says “You might want to do something about that.”

But today I walked into Starbucks, and I was wearing, as fate would have it, my little sister’s jeans. Er, actually, she’s my older sister, she just seems younger because of all ‘the mistakes’. The jeans were a bit tight, they lifted and separated. They re-organized things and then brought them back together in the most kick ass way, I walked in and realized everyone was staring at me. Men looked up from the screenplays they were writing, and you know REALLY took a good long look. I must also say, and we don’t have time for this, but I have a very complicated relationship with my hair. And for reasons that are too long and technical to explain, it was the perfect combination of dirty, windswept, and spit-laden, that made it, dare I say “perfect”. I stood there the centre of attention being devoured by all those onlookers!

And I realized – I was the best looking girl in Starbucks today! When I got up to the counter – I ordered a drink of just foam. They wrote “Corrindifer” on the cup…

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September 4, 2014

Neighbours

A guy comes to my door. “Have you seen my remote?” “What?” I say. “I’ve lost my remote and I can’t find it anywhere. I thought that somehow it, you know, got over here.”   As he looks into middle distance I recognize him from trying not to ever make eye contact with him, know his name or memorize his face – he’s my neighbour. Some people think a stranger is a friend they haven’t met yet. I think a friend is an enemy that hasn’t betrayed you yet. “No I haven’t seen it…”   “Great” he says, “Sorry to bother you.” And he goes to go but instead he just stands there. “Listen,” I say, “sometimes I lose my remote and I’ve accidentally put it in the fridge. Did you look in your fridge?” “Oh yah,” he says, “Several times and it’s not on the roof or in the furnace neither.” “Great,” I say even though nothing is.

I go back to what I’m doing. Which I think is nothing but it’s really important to me, and I have to get back to it, you know? And about an hour later I see this vague shape on my step so I do the manly thing. I crawl on my hands and knees toward the window …which is further complicated by the fact my dog thinks I’m finally going to play that game that she has been imagining. Okay. So I’m crawling and I get to the window, I open the blinds a crack and there is a big eye there. It’s the same guy, my neighbour, but I’m thinking, “ if he moved he wouldn’t be.” I open the door and he’s been rooting around in this plant I have on the doorstep for some reason. I act like I care about the plant. He says, “Do you know what function I miss the most?” “Gee let me guess, channel recall?” “No, ‘Sleep,’ ‘Sleep On’ See I can’t sleep because I can’t sleep without the TV. So I fall asleep and I have to wake up and turn it off and when I turn it off I can’t sleep and there is nothing.” “Did your wife, um, leave you?” “No,” he says, “but I’m in denial. And if she ever did leave, which she didn’t, then I know she would come back when I found my remote.” His eyes zoom in on my remote sitting on something called an ‘end table’. I think they call it that ’cause when you buy one, it’s the END of your youth. He says, “Is that my remote?” “No, that remote is MINE.”   “I’m sure it is friend, I’m sure it is. Do you use YOUR remote?”   “Yes, yes I do.”   “Of course you do? We’re all the same aren’t we? We all have our needs. I bet you don’t think a remote can wreck your life, but it can. We’re all three bad breaks away from living in a cardboard fort.”

I close the door. I sit down, pick up my remote, feel the warmth, look at my sweet dog. I become, for an instant, exactly what the government wants me to be – “happy with what I have.” And I was. I go to pat my sweet dog’s stomach and the TV turns off. I pat it again and it turns back on. My dog just looks at me and burps. She burps the way only a dog that’s eaten a neighbour’s life can.

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September 4, 2014

Follow Your Dreams

You know what? You’ve got to follow your dreams. First of all it’s very important to have dreams. I mean some people HAVE their dreams and other people FIND their dreams. First you have to ‘discover’ your dream then ‘follow’ your dream and then ‘find’ your dream. And once you FIND your dream you’ve got to “Hold on to that dream.” Whatever. Believing in your dream helps make your dream come true. And really don’t be ashamed of your dream even if it seems really common like “becoming an actor,” or “being in a rock band” or just plain old-fashioned “famous.” Great. Those are good dreams … And don’t be deterred, even though a lot of other people who have those EXACT SAME dreams are miserable. Better even. Because what you have to do is, and you know this, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, is follow your DREAM. And if on the path to “having your dreams come true” you stumble or fall or are humiliated over and over in public and if failure is as constant as the days that house them, still don’t let go of that dream. Even if you’re sixty or forty or something and you aren’t even like near to the arena in which dreams come true. Don’t give up. Just work harder and think more about that old dream of yours. Because you’ll die without your dream. I mean you’ll die anyway but you know what I mean…

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