A Story

Here's the beginning, I haven't posted the whole thing, as, for a short story, it's long. It was written based on the picture below.

Girl: (explaining to the camera) I packed my hatbox with my clothes, because, one, I have no hat, and two, I have no other luggage. (looking down at birdcage) Him? Thing is, I wasn't about to stay in that house a second longer, but before hitting the road I grabbed Cheeky. I couldn't just leave him there. I guess I make a pretty sight. When I said hitting the road, just then, I meant good old fashioned "my heels on the pebbled shoulder" walking with the power lines. Not many cars right now, I like that, don't you? Gives me time to think. Sure cars shouldn't usually mess that up, but right now, in this moment, I don't think I could handle a '92 Buick going 50 mph whipping my skirt around my head. Yes, I left the house, skirt, heels, and all.(laughs) I'm leaving home for good this time. Not that it was for bad any other time - you know, I've never understood that phrase "for good." I mean, if you take it literally, than you would think I was setting out to do something spectacular in this world. I'm going to go cure cancer, or open an orphanage, or something like that. No, I guess I'm leaving home for bad this time. Well, actually I don't know if I would go so far as to say that either. I'm leaving home for neutral - I'm freakin' Switzerland walking down this road. 

(car drives by - ironically, a '92 Buick, her skirt flies up)

Well, so much for that.

I guess you're wondering why I am leaving, for good, for bad, or whatever. Well, to tell you the truth, if you had to wear these sunglasses for my reasons, and still didn't get why I was leaving "home," then you should probably stop listening to my story right about now. We probably won't agree on much, you and me.

(sitting on the hatbox on the ground, a couple hours have passed)

No, I haven't given up. Is Switzerland still a country?(car pulls to a stop behind her, guy gets out)

Guy: You need a ride somewhere, miss?

Girl: (hasn't gotten up yet, still facing camera) Guess I won't have to though. (to Guy) If you don't mind birds then I'm going where you're going.

(Opens door throws hatbox in the back, sits down with cage in lap)

Girl: Where are you going, by the way?

Guy: Heading north a ways, up towards the border. Where are you heading?

Girl: Um, a little farther than that... more west too. Just drop me at the end of your line and I'll pick up another from there. 

Guy: What's taking you out a little farther and more west?

Girl: My grandma. And some big kid stole my bus money.

Guy: (pause) Well, that's really nice of you, she sick or something?

Girl: (long pause) Actually, I don't have a grandma. That was the first thing that popped into my head. I just don't know you, and, though you're giving me a ride, I'm pretty sure when you drop me off you still won't know enough about me to really care where the hell I'm going. So, as I see it, I'll call you guy, you can call me girl, and we'll both go our ways feeling better about ourselves. You for helping out a total stranger and earning brownie points with God, you know, that whole "when I was hungry, you fed me", and Me, well I'll be a little closer to where I want to be which is as far away from here as possible. (sarcastic celebration) Yah! We both win.

(Silence)

Guy: Hey Girl?

Girl: (slight laugh) Yeah, Guy?

Guy: What's with the bird?

Girl: (sigh) Since you seem so intent upon asking questions you won't mind if I lie do you?

Guy: Not if you make it interesting.

Girl: (looks at him in surprise) Didn't expect that. Here's the truth then. Before she died, because I did have one once, my grandma gave him to me. And I did visit her when she was sick.

Guy: No kidding. Well, there goes the sarcasm.

(silence)

Girl: Hey Guy?

Guy: Yeah Girl?

Girl: Put your seatbelt on. I'd hate for you to go breaking through the windshield if we get in an accident and ruin my get-away car. 

Guy: (as he's grabbing for his seatbelt) And it's back.

Long Beach Life

So this is for you Canis, my love. But I have to give the background on the story first, which, you already know. 

Two Sundays ago I drive home to Long Beach and proceed to park my car. Now, normally, I have no trouble parallel parking as that is the only subcategory of parking available on the tight streets of LB. Occasionally I have to try a second time. I do worse when people watch. It's a very particular thing this parallel park. 

Anyways, continue the joke. It's not really a joke at all, but I quote for Canis' benefit, as I have already told her this portion of the story and want to hold her attention. As I was saying. I pull up to this smaller than usual space and proceed to back ever so carefully in between these two cars. Pause. Another condition of my parking process -the window must be down. This enables my head to lean out and judge more objectively the park I am completing. 

Resume. Window down, head out, pulling into space. A guy from across the street starts walking towards me holding his hands about "yeah" far away from each other saying: "You have about this much room." And now I have a witness. If you were paying attention you will remember my parking ability tends to decline at this point. "You need help parking?"

I could allow him the benefit of thinking my bad park was due to his inability at helping, couldn't I? "Yeah, sure, thanks." I start pulling forward to begin Round Two, as I've noticed the curb is neither 6 or 12 inches from the curb. "I have to start over, I'm too far from the curb," meaning, now it's all on you buddy, this next park will represent your expertise at guiding my car. 

"I'm helping you cause that's my car behind you." Ouch. Not only was my pride at parking fatally wounded, not saying it was through the roof before, but in that moment all womankind shuddered at the clear jab at our ability to operate an automobile. 

For that, without waiting for help at all, I deftly pulled so quickly into the space that even James Bond would've been taken aback. Oh yes, ten points for women.

"Oh, um, well, I guess you're good."

"Yeah, thanks for your help." Ha.

He goes back to the bunch of people outside the house across the street, and I gather my belongings and head to my house down the street. 

Two days later, the next time I drive my car, I see a note tucked under my windshield wiper. A number. Followed by "Guy who tried to help you park". Now, I'm all for meeting new people, so of course I give him a call a couple of days later. 

"Hi, I got a note on my car..."

"No way! I can't believe you  called! We were taking bets of whether you would, or my creeper mustache scared you away."

Okay, one, it was way too dark to get a real idea of what Jaret (the guy) looked like, let alone to ascertain that on his face was, in fact, a creeper mustache. Two, he never really got that close to the car as, which I'm now realizing, he probably assumed from my gender that I could very easily run him over. And three, I was parking. If my attention was focused anywhere it was most definitely not focused on the distracting presence of the group of people across the street staring and judging my park job. 

Anyways, this story seems much longer than it's worth probably, but hopefully I've made it interesting enough for you to still be reading. 

My roommate Priscilla and I met up with Jaret and his band mates, they are in a folk band, the next night and it was a rather interesting time. As my story has continued this long I better tie it up quickly. Canis, I'm sorry, but it was way too much fun to talk about how we met, then the night we actually hung out. Here goes the more interesting of points regarding the night.

1. They have a huge T-Rex in their front window. His name is Adam.

2. Not to get confused with the dinosaur, two members of the band are called Adam. 

3. It is still debatable of whether Brett can actually smile, though it is safe to say that Priscilla can run way faster then him, and everybody at the Pike knows he's not very coordinated, due to his face plant right outside the door.

4. Matt, after losing the bet of whether I would call, had to run down the street in his boxers, which he proceeded to do, right past two cop cars with their lights going.

5. Not surprising to the rest of us, Brett was the only one to get pulled over after he turned to follow after Matt - Brett's a redhead. Apparently there is some prejudice. I am excluded from this as I am not natural. LB police can tell this from afar.

6. The Penny Saver is an excellent means to starting a bonfire.

7. Balloon animals, on the other hand, are not.

8. But balloon animals are a means of making an amazing bonfire with music even better.

Okay, I think that's the end. I've rambled on quite long enough, and I'm not even sure if anyone is still reading. Hope you enjoyed a little slice of Long Beach Life.

Updates... boring, sorry

I apologize to all my devoted readers for my lack of posts in the last month. Actually a month ago today was my last. Please accept my deepest apologies. I will now update you with my life as I know you are all wondering worriedly if I'm even alive. 

As of right now -

Favorite song: Beggar's Prayer - Emiliana Torrini

Color I'm currently wearing: Blue, and blue. Light and Dark, striped pjs. Oh yeah.

Temporary job: Balloon artist, not so temporary as its what I'll be doing this whole summer

Last song I wrote: Indecision, finished yesterday

Favorite TV show: Castle

Latest crazy story: A guy helped me park one night, next time I go out to my car I have a note on it with his number, called him, Priscilla and I hung out with him and his friends last night. They have a huge T-rex in their front window with a green light for effect.

Last thing I cooked: Pie-dough cookies last night

Summer plans: Living on a sailboat with Kelsey up in the Venice Beach area

Book I'm reading: New Moon, second in the Twilight series

Time I slept to this morning: Ten

Band I can't stop listening to: Kings of Leon

Last movie theater movie I watched: 17 Again - pretty funny

Korea application stage: interview next Friday at 11!!

Color of my hair: Still red

Plans for today: Signing lease for the boat, bonfire for Ben's birthday, yeah!

Okay, okay. I know you wanted to know all of that. I want to write more, but I'm going to finish my cup of Peppermint Tea and take a shower. Sorry. Later though.

They Write the Songs

So I've done this a couple times now. I get a song stuck in my head, for instance, the one that is there right now "Asking for Flowers" by Kathleen Edwards, and then the tune is there no matter how much I try to make up my own. So when I go to write a new song, I can get the lyrics fine, but they're to the tune of that one song I can't seem to get out of my head. And no matter what tune I try to come up with, the copied one always sounds better. Makes sense really, I mean, that song is the one that got recorded and sold at Starbucks. Ha! Well, here's my words anyways.

The weaving traffic on the highway

looks like a circus act

And the lights up in the distance

are the things keeping me on track

Driving towards an answer

I've needed for quite a while

now I can't stop this feeling

that I'm going out in style

You've made me feel like this too long

and I won't go home til it's done

The road is burned behind me now

Well, this final goodbye

is the ending to a reckless day

Won't be driving your road

Mr. Half Hour Away

The southbound lanes are wider

leading me away from you

And I won't count the miles

of road because we are through

I can see the sunshine

burning the clouds in the sky

All the signs are pointing to

my road, my journey, my life

Now all I need is my own tune - sweet. Coming right up.

In Honor of St. Patty's

For Ballydowse and Ireland ... charge!

Bruce

(titled after the dog I almost got but then couldn't, experience which inspired this poem/song)

Believe me, you'd have wanted him too :)

I'll pose this thought to you

reply perhaps you'll do

why is growing up 

all broken up

and I'm right there with it too?

Walking down the street you'd see

I talk and dress all old

but growing up

is all broken up

and there's more to it I'm told.

My nails aren't done just painted on

and I can't stand the news

I guess this grown-up thing is more

than just some high-heeled shoes.

I eat salad and run alone

my decisions are my own

yet growing up 

is so broken up

And I'm always calling home.

They've all seemed to have made

it through this crazy game

of growing up

though broken up

Wish I could find the way.

Clark No More.

Now Parisi. Canis (to whom others might refer to as Candice, but I have never and will never pronounce her full name as a way of claiming that special bond of friendship which comes with the bestowal of nicknames) is now Canis Parisi, no more Canis Clark. 

It all happened at approximately 4:40 pm this last Saturday, March the 7th. The venue was decorated, the guests were seated, and she walked down the aisle to her now-husband Dominic Parisi.

Okay, enough of that. So I would be lying if I was to say that I'm not going to miss being her roommate. Although we have lived through separation before, this is definitely more permanent, with no coming semester of late-night procrastination and mac 'n cheese with sausage dinners. Neither of us regret the lack of semester, of course, we are both ecstatic beyond anything that we are done with school - but here she goes and gets married and just changes everything. Not to be dramatic or anything.

I don't want you to get me wrong - I am so extremely happy for the two of them. They're married - they have a house - (though they don't want any for a while) I want them to have kids!! - yeah - excited. Got it? But there's like this Canis-shaped hole, a sort of loss if you will. 

Well, here's just to show you how happy and beautiful and amazing she looked. Gorgeous. I lurve her. 

For those of you who don't know, "Lurve" is what you say when Love just doesn't quite cut it. Of course, the Southern accent you say it in only adds all the more emphasis. Practice it sometime - it's fun. You'll find it fits when nothing else will. Kind of like a Canis in a Canis-shaped hole. 

Congratulations my friend!