| journal ex. |
[12 Nov 2008|11:44pm] |
This is the time of year that makes me fall in love with the East coast all over again. The air is getting cooler -- well, for the most part because this year has been bananas -- and there’s just a certain feeling in it, one that makes you appreciate having a warm home to return to. One that smells like apples and cinnamon if you’re like me and have taken stock in those Glade candles. Seriously, to die for. Buy them. But it’s not all because of Halloween it’s because Fall is really here; summer is truly gone, winter is just around the corner, and it’s time to get back to the grindstone of work. Not to mention New York kinda goes crazy for Halloween with parties and such, and then the next day the countdown begins until the parade. Halloween’s black is replaced with Thanksgiving’s red and Manhattan comes alive with shoppers and tourists as the Rockettes open their Christmas Spectacular. I remember watching the parade from my dad’s place almost every year, except the year we were in California with my cousins and it just wasn’t the same. I mean huge ass balloons versus delayed telecast. I whined for a month straight that I’d missed it. He didn’t try that again.
Of course this time of year is also when everybody starts getting sick. I’ve been battling sinuses for a week now because Mother(fucking) Nature won’t make up her mind if she wants to be cold or hot. I think she has the mensies right now really. At work, though, there has been an influx of non-routine appointments. I work in a group office for four pediatricians behind the desk and let me tell you there are two very important things I have learned about life from working there. One: You do not mess with a frantic mother in any way, shape, or form. Them and their babies are srs bzns. Take for example our policy that walk-ins are not allowed and you must call that morning for an appointment. This one lady shows up with her little boy just after noon because his nose had just started… leaking this shit, it was disgusting. I had to tell her no appointment, no seeing the doctor. We’re all familiar with Linda Blair right? Yeah, well. That’s akin to what I was dealing with as she all but climbed over the counter in attempt to throttle me because I was sticking to policy. Eventually I used White Out on the patient sheet and scratched him in. From then on I just sorta passed the crazies along and avoided the situation. The other thing I’ve learned is that having a kid is a full-time job that comes with no training manuals and when in doubt, common sense is out. I swear half of the mothers I speak with have lost their minds. So your kid’s nose is running? Grab a tissue and if it comes out clear you’re fine. Dark green or red, there’s an issue. I’ve also learned that I’m not ready for the responsibility of having my own child because sure they can be sweet but once their appointments are over and six o’clock hits, the quiet that falls over the office is blissful.
Actually people think I’m weird. I can find calm in the middle of Manhattan. There was a huge thing where people did yoga in the middle of Times Square and I wanted to participate because seriously my yoga classes are amazing, but I couldn’t get the time off work. I guess it’s because I’ve grown up in the city hearing garbage trucks and screaming sirens since conception. I can look around and hear conversations instead of engines, watch faces instead of lighted signs, I don’t know but I feel like this place is in my blood. That’s why when I graduated from BMCC I decided to stay here. My cousins in San Diego offered to let me come stay until I got settled but it would just be too weird. Plus the boy factor was a huge one. I couldn’t ask him to give up his job to go somewhere with me, not when there are plenty of places teeming with opportunity right around the corner. Yeah, well, that and snow. I can’t deal without it and while people are left bitching about blizzards I’m hanging out the window doing the snow dance trying to get more. Next time there's a blizzard, don't come knockin' on my door.
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| journal ex. |
[12 Nov 2008|11:39pm] |
Paradise isn’t always as it seems. The people are arrogant; if you don’t look expensive you don’t get anywhere, and what ever happened to just plain common courtesy? Still, when I’m away I just want to come back. I was born and raised right outside of Paris until I was nine years old and then my family moved to London. It wasn’t that hard of a move, I just got looked at like the weird ugly duckling for awhile because I didn’t really fit in with the English kids and I certainly didn’t speak their language. I’m the only child so I didn’t have anyone to go home to confide in either; it took a couple of years before I was finally able to break out of the naïve shell of mine. Where I grew up dancing was just a thing that girls did after school and on Saturdays. You’d attend ballet lessons just as if you’d play a sport. When we came to London I let it drop off for awhile until I was accepted into The Royal Ballet School. I felt more in place with those girls, even if it was a huge amount of competition but it gave me somewhere to go and someone else to turn to. I only did that until I was 15 because I didn’t make it into the advanced level of instruction. For the better, I suppose, because I was struggling with my schooling. I eventually picked the dancing back up when I was 19 and became a trained ballroom dancer. That’s actually quite fun, wearing those big gowns and high heels, it's just the worst part is trying to keep a partner.
I don’t know why I started with all that. It could’ve been with my name is Collette Garnier, and I swear I have a sign on me that reads MISE EN GARDE, HORRIBLE AVEC LES HOMMES. Because heaven knows the past few years haven’t been easy. I hate how your life is either really good with a boy, or just plain on the piss. It’s taken me awhile to realise that I shouldn’t base my success on those rare good times because it’s not so bad being single, I’m more apt to go out and have fun now by myself. It’s just a bit hairy when I end up drinking too much, because then getting home is a killer. The first boyfriend I ever had was named Sam, we met with the ballroom dancing. He was my partner and a fine dancer; it really was quite easy to see why the girls fell so in love with him. Sam had a thing, though, about not being faithful and coming home to our flat one night to find him with another girl was enough. I moved out straight away, taking whatever I could gather at the moment and legging it across town to my best mate Tristain’s house. Her parents were very lovely about the situation but that should have been my first hint that living with a man was a bad idea. Sort of the same thing happened again just last year, only this time we were engaged and I thought it was really going to be it. Dominic wasn’t the typical rock star type, he was caring and always up for a laugh. In fact it was almost a year ago that we spent an extended holiday on the French Riviera right after we were engaged. His music just got in the way of us being together properly; there were just too many other women around him at once and I got paranoid. I maybe didn’t take the best route of telling him – moving my things out while he was away recording – but I didn’t know what else to do. I know that if I would’ve stayed to talk with him I would have ended up settling down there. And now that I think about it, I’m not sure that’s what I wanted.
I’m not ready for kids, or to even have a very permanent job it seems. I worked for a long time at top shop boutique that saw a lot of expensive clientele but when I had to take an extended leave because my gran died, I lost my position. It got under my skin that I could work for her for nearly three years and then, tante pis, Collette! Au revoir! The slag. A few of my friends worked at Miss Sixty so that’s where I ended up until I left. Fashion interests me, I’ve toyed with the idea of going to school for it but I feel I’m too old to go back now. I’m not even entirely certain that I could keep up with the American girls and their ideas. It’s such a weird switch to be living in New York City; I was living in Monaco for a few months before that got old. Really, one can only spend so many lazy afternoons by the sea sipping on a wonderful alcoholic drink and reading a book. My parents moved back to Paris after I moved away to be closer they said but I think they just missed the Parisian spirit and England had been a good enough home for them while my dad was working. I didn’t have the heart to make a trip back to London before I left Europe completely – I couldn’t face Dom, my friends, anyone who would try and talk me out of leaving. Et pour quoi? Because I came to the States for a man. Silly, if you want to be honest, because I haven’t seen him since and I feel like a fish out of water with this horrendously mixed up accent that sounds so bizarre mixed in with the fluent New York tongue. He was living in Monaco near my boarding house and I fell too hard for him. I guess I should have told him that I was going to come as well but I didn’t, I was afraid he’d think I was odd. This is the price you pay, I suppose.
At any rate I’ve been in Manhattan for almost an entire month now, this being my second apartment building. The first was way more than I wanted to pay and really? I think this place is much better. I found work as a hostess at Café Greco, it’s this beautiful little Greek and Mediterranean place that has wonderful food. It’s almost like being back at home… I just hope I don’t get sick of it with working there! The hours are good as well, only open on Sunday afternoons and then for dinner the rest of the week; it leaves me plenty of time to do exploring, shopping, and the general laziness that I seem to do oh so well. I do really miss going out to the clubs so that’s my next mission here, to find the best spots to dance and drink. I’ve been looking into finding another ballroom partner but it’s a feat in a city this size. But believe me if I was going through my To Do list, we’d be here for a long time so we’ll leave it at that. My adventure in New York has just begun.
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| aim ex. |
[12 Nov 2008|11:36pm] |
"I'm gonna be honest," like I should've long ago, "I don't even know what to say right now I-I just...wanted to hear your voice." The white backgrounds and black block letters and the steady clickclickclick of keys on the phone seemed so impersonal, sometimes it was easy to forget he was talking to a real person. His admission was childish but apparently that's what Neil thought of him anyway. Lying gingerly on his back he glared up at the ceiling like it was to blame, shooting daggers might make him feel better. "You're right, you know," Sam started again this time swinging his legs and making him bounce a little bit on the bed so his voice wavered. "I'm a childish, ignorant little shit who's terrified. I play mind games because I'm terrified of the truth not because I can't handle it, because it's just so real. I've tried for so long to disillusion myself from the actual world, living in my own little fantasies but they're not complete. They have huge and gaping holes in them where you and me intertwined isn't enough because yeah, I'm confused. Sometimes I get lost driving back to my own apartment because my head isn't in the right spot but there's one thing in my entire life that I have never, ever been confused about," he rambled for a considerable time before shutting up. Sam didn't know what he was saying anymore just letting his heart push his brain aside and start flapping it's gums.
response.
"Stop it!" Sam barked going rigid, back straight as he sat up and pulled at the thin comforter between his fingers. "You're the one trying to placate me because for once you can't figure out what I'm really going to say or what's really going on in my head, and you know what Neil?" His voice lowered dangerously and yeah Sam should probably keep his arrogance and his attitude in check because fucking up this conversation could do much more damage than he'd like. "I think you're the one who's terrified." Worrying at his lip he stood to pace again around the beds, around the television, weaving his own patterns in and out while he thought. Well not so much think but to dissect the words on the tip of his tongue that all wanted to come out at once, all wrong. He quieted finding solace in an especially dark corner of the hotel room entry where light could not reach shrinking down into the corner and pulling his legs up as tightly as he could to his chest. "At times, I've been confused about you. I wondered why you put up with me when I turned your life upsidedown, why you stuck by me in the band so long when your heart wasn't in it. They're trivial moments that my mind toys with still day in and day out." He could feel his throat constricting, telling himself that he wasn't going to get emotional because that'd do no good. Neil would write it off as him playing it up and he didn't want that. He swallowed once, again, again, it wasn't going away, made him choke out a breath and bury his face into his knees. "The other night, I just...I want to know why I couldn't...why I-I wasn't...I mean," he stuttered giving up and growing quiet. "I'm sorry," he said in a despondent whisper, hitting the red end button and staring at the phone.
response.
Sam set a new record for the amount of time he sat still in that corner. His hands were cold at the ends where he'd been clutching his phone so tightly that it was cutting off circulation, eyes not tearing from the screen nor blinking in hopes that maybe, just maybe it would light up and buzz and ring and Neil's name would appear before him. His lungs burned from not breathing, muscles tense to the point of quivering like after waking up from an awful nightmare. His jaw was set and why was Sam so surprised? He wasn't going to call him back. He'd put the last nail in his coffin, he was sure, and now the other boy wasn't going to be around anymore. One too many mind games, one too many moments where he came so close to breaking. Why was it that he was so eloquent with words when he wasn't speaking? His mind was racing speaking in lyrics and metaphors and sometimes, most of the time, he wished he could think clearly so that he could just get all his shit laid out on the table. Amidst his thinking his grip had loosened sending the sidekick to the floor and startling him. It was then that his heart kicked back in, blood thrumming through his veins because he had to call him back rightthissecond, he didn't want to perpetuate the situation and let it go. Sam called him waited and waited for an answer because that's all he'd wanted. He needed a plain and simple answer.
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| thread ex. |
[12 Nov 2008|10:48pm] |
She was smiling at a little brother and sister beside of her, their father trying to get them to decide on a dog. Whatever the boy liked the girl didn't, and vice versa; it reminded Rae of growing up with her own brothers except she was the princess in her parents' eyes and whatever she wanted, well, it pretty much went. Luckily she hadn't grown up to be one of those girls who wanted everything expensive and demanded the attention of every man in the room. She liked to think she was on the more sensible side of things. Still, with the pregnancy mishap that had occurred, the sight of children made her chest tighten and she was about to turn to leave the area when she heard his voice.
"Oh really? What makes you think you deserve that honor, Michael?" she shot back to him, looking up with a smile. They had a habit, it seemed, of running into one another in the most unusual of places. Her brown eyes moved back to the dog a couple cages down, still pacing in the front and lapping up the attention that everyone was giving. Clearly the pup knew he was somethin' else. "He is a beauty though, but he'll probably weigh more than Ky in a couple months. A friend of mine out on the Island had a Husky when we were growing up, loved to run all over the yard," she smiled more, remembering the time she spent with that dog. "I'd feel bad for cooping up somethin' so big in a tiny ass apartment, though."
She took note of his appearance and figured he was getting off work, curious as to what he was even doing at the pet store. "So you lookin' to buy, Lacrois?" Turning her attention back to the little Chihuahua in front of her she turned her nose up. "That's like the stereotypical rich girl dog. I admit to wanting this really cute Chanel bag to carry Alexis around in, but if I got a dog like that I'd never live it down," she chuckled. "Not to mention Santo would really mistake it for a snack." He'd looked at her current dog like she was an entrée when they'd first met, Rae could only envision what he'd think of something so small.
Turning to glance over her shoulder when she heard a loud meow, she smiled at a girl holding a kitten. "There ya go, I'll get a cat and name it after you. All cute and cuddly, more fitting than a dog," she nodded before glancing at him. "That way I could say I get to sleep with Mike Lacrois every night."
response.
"Yeah it's kinda pathetic, ain't it? They'll drop a grand on some stupid diamond studded collar but won't do the same for the kid," she muttered, shaking her head. She didn't really associate with those types of people but she could only imagine. "I was watching the Tyra Banks show the other day when I was layin' around, she was doin' this whole segment on men who love their dogs. Called 'em muttrosexuals, isn't that absolutely ridiculous? If I was ever datin' a guy that bought furry little dresses for his dog and had it's nails painted, I think I would have to go," she snorted. Nothin' wrong with loving your pet but that was taking it all a wee bit too far.
Her eyes were on the cat and she was definitely considering it. Destin had brought home a scraggly little kitten one time when they were younger and the three Aslip kids managed to coerce their mother into keeping it; only, it ran away a couple months later and they weren't allowed to have another. "Yes cute and cuddly, you were pretty nice from what I can remember," she shrugged, referring to when she'd had her head injury. Reaching her hand over she ran it along the cat's fur, ruffling it up before sighing. "Man, I dunno, I think I might need one I just am not sure how Alexis would react." Rae bit her lip and grinned, giving him a tug and indicating for him to follow her.
She moved down along the aisle to where the kittens were being housed. There was quite a selection to choose from, some older cats mixed in as well. Sure the little ones were cute but her attention was on two white Persians curled up together asleep. "I must have a thing for white animals today but God they're so...cute," she squealed, pressing her palms against the same glass she was leaning her forehead against. She looked all of six years old standing there, debating whether or not to get one of the cats.
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| thread ex. |
[11 Nov 2008|02:34pm] |
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"Oh, ice cream," Brenna said getting a little excited about that. She wiped off her hands and mouth on a napkin before wrapping her trash up to put it back into the empty bag, not wanting to leave a mess. Bren sipped at her drink, able to relate to his reference of being married to something because that's how she felt about her acting since for a long time she didn't do anything but. "I used to be terribly self-conscious and shy, which I've actually only grown out of recently. It didn't help with the meeting of boys thing!" Of course Brenna didn't mention her massive ugly duckling phase because self-loathing wasn't a good impression to give off on the first date.
response.
"I dig gummi worms like you wouldn't believe," she responded, her eyebrows raising as she heard his ringtone and Brenna gave a little smirk but didn't say anything about it. "Um," she said glancing outside. "You know it's such a nice afternoon why don't we do something outdoors?" Brenna nodded. She hadn't played outdoors in forever and thought, maybe, it would do her some good. Burn off some bad energy and emotions that had been dragging her down, that is. "You can grab the frisbee if you want because I can't throw a football to save my life," she grinned. Bren grabbed their bag of trash before sliding out of the SUV having spotted a trash can nearby. She threw it away first before joining Tyson again on the grass.
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