Saturday, February 21, 2009

I'll need you to sign for that...

Annie, Elisa, and Lara were no strangers to delivery service. From pizza to chinese food to (extremely) belated Christmas presents to hair dye, it became a common practice to place your eyes somewhere near waste height when answering the door. After all, unlikely to recognize the delivery man, the cartons of wontons and fried rice remained unmistakable.

This is why someone arriving at the apartment door who isn't employed in the delivery service can be a shocking event. With eyes poised at the belt buckle location, it takes a few moments to draw them back up toward a familiar face.

This is also why when Annie answered the door on Saturday, half expecting her next shipment of neon hair dye, she was incredibly suprised to find flowers in the waist high position, and even more shocked to find Gabe's face poised a few feet above her habitual gaze.



When a boy arrives at the front door with flowers, there are several thing that are appropriate to say:

"Let me go get my roommate" may prove necessary at times.

"They're beautiful, let me find a vase" is very common.

"Thank you" will suffice if one is feeling uncreative and caught off-guard.

but Annie did not say any of these things. She said what was likely the most inappropriate response at that moment.



Oh fuck. Shit. What are you doing here? Shit... Hi! Wow, that's really... well it's totally unnecessary... Ummmm I need to go put real clothes on! Stay here! fuck!



Clad in sweatpants and a torn up T-shirt, Annie ran to her room to find a jacket to throw over herself. Walking back out to the living room, Gabe was still standing by the front door, with flowers and two pink and white sparkle plush unicorns awkwardly suspended in his arms.

Happy Valentine's Day, he offered, extending the bundle of gifts to Annie, who after a moments consideration, realized she would have to eventually take them out of his arms. Struggling to balance the awkward cluster of gifts, she shifted them to the table and resumed uncomfortable fidgeting. So... ummm...

I don't know if you're busy later today...



Annie interjected. Chelsea and I have dinner reservations, but I'll call you later or something?



Yeah, that sounds good... Gabe awkwardly shuffled backward toward the door and opened it to make his escape.

Ummmm thank you! Annie said, a little too loudly as he stepped out into the walkway. Happy Valentine's....

Annie turned to Eliza, who had been audience to the whole event. He's not supposed to...

I know. Eliza said, feigned astonishment on her face.

Things can't change... We're too busy and it was very nice, but not necessary. I didn't ask for this, I take pride in being alo-...

You cannot possibly be trying to feel sorry for yourself in this situation. Eliza smirked. A boy brought you flowers and gifts, just be normal... Be grateful and move on...

Right. Annie resumed her position on the couch.

Pretty flowers! Eliza offered.

Annie looked back to the bouquet now taking up half the kitchen table. I know, right?

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Life Lessons from Arik and Stan (part 1)

In the spirit of Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy, here we collect the little gems that remind us each day of why Arik and Stan are not real people (the reason being because the individuals after whom they are modeled don't happen to be real people either...)

Cost-Benefit Decision Making:
by Stan

When making a decision, I work on an emotional slide scale. While slightly archaic, it remains effective. You see, when asking myself "should I do this?" I first weigh how likely it is to hurt or cause discomfort to another person. I know you're wondering, "but Stan, HOW can you assign a numerical value to pain or discomfort?" I reply to you: I am just that good. After that, I evaluate how happy or justified the decision will make me feel; again, no small feat, but usually I will feel justified to the value of ten on nearly any subject or deed, so approximations are made simple. I add the value of my satisfaction to the value of dissatisfaction of the involved parties, and if the number is above zero (and when, really does it ever fall below...?) I follow through.

You see, because I added math, it makes my inhumanity more palatable.
I am brilliant... Feelings are boring; kissing is awesome.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Divine Apathia

What? Elisa looked at her roommate with the sympathetic eyes that Annie was sure she'd been practicing her whole life. She imagined a clumsy pint-sized Elisa climbing on top of a toilet and furrowing her toddler eyebrows in feigned concern in front of the mirror.

There's something wrong, don't you see? I'm not panicking. I'm not hyperventilating. I'm fine!

Maybe you're growing. Elisa smiled and took Annie's hands in her own.

Maybe something horrible is about to happen. Annie felt her heart start to race and panic finally began to set in.

12 hours earlier:


Annie woke Wednesday morning to find all the blankets and covers kicked to the side of what had been a pristinely made bed. She rolled over onto the maroon body pillow that she now used to simulate the presence of another human being next to her and recalled with a grimace the evening before:

I've given this a lot of thought, and I don't want to do this anymore. I wish I could offer you a reason, but I really think I should trust my feelings instead of trying to justify them. I just don't want to be that person anymore...

Never one for social graces, Annie had made a few inappropriate jokes (It's because my tits are different sizes isn't it?) several comments insinuating that Brian was gay (Well you were in the navy....) and finally conceded:

I'm sorry... If I'm being callous or snarky it's to cut the tension, not to hurt you... I suppose that's not the person I want to be.

She rolled back off the pillow and waited expectantly for the sweeping illness from the night before to return to her stomach. After a minute or two, she rubbed her eyes, finding only the familiar discomfort of contacts that had been left in overnight. She knew that by waking up she had re-entered the world of anxiety and compulsive behaviors and feared what last night's events meant for the day ahead, but as she kicked her legs out of the bed, the only thought occupying her mind was the leftover pizza and chinese on the coffee table. She checked the clock next to her bed and surmised that there was probably still time to consume the leftovers before they would go stale. The anxiety will come later, she told herself... and stumbled out into the hallway toward the kitchen.

In the living room, Annie's roommates shared sympathetic glances before greeting her:

How'd you sleep, babe? Lara had already beat Annie to the not-yet-stale leftovers and was holding a piece of pizza in her hand.

I slept alright, she now directed her attention to Elisa who was stirring a pyrex measuring glass filled with stuffing. How'd the exam go? Elisa shrugged and planted herself next to Lara on the couch. Annie joined them and flipped through channels while perusing what was left of the pizza and rice on the coffee table. Elisa reached over and offered Annie a hug with one arm (the other still clutching the pyrex of stuffing). Annie caught a glimpse of the contingency bag she had packed the night before. It contained borrowed objects of Brian's in the case that he didn't want to see her again. She had fully expected to burst into tears at the sight of the balled up sweatshirt and dvd collection stuffed into her old messenger bag, but nothing came. She returned Elisa's embrace and concentrated on the sweatshirt, focusing all of her attention on the implications of the bag poised next to the couch, but try as she might, she couldn't reproduce the panic or grief from the previous evening. (What the hell is wrong with me?)

6 hours earlier

Something was wrong. Annie knew from experience that she should be completely disassembled at this point, Yesterday she was crying on the couch recalling all the unpleasant details of her brief yet effective conversation with Brian from the night before, and now all she felt was some hybrid between resignation and relief that after a week of emotional purgatory she had at least some sort of resolution. She rushed through the apartment desperate to find some sort of stimuli. She took out the DVD's he'd left in her posession (a friend retainer? More like a guilt sacrifice for dragging her sorry ass along.) and placed one on the TV in her room. She waited for a twinge or a flash of something positive. Anything to induce remorse or guilt, but she didn't feel anything aside from exhaustion. She knew it was time to pull out the big guns.

5 hours earlier

Annie knew what had to be done. If she couldn't induce the expected anxiety, she would have to reproduce it based on last year's events. She closed her eyes and imagined herself barefoot, with her hair all chopped off, fighting and crying in the bitter cold for Stan to take her back. She vividly recalled the stinging remarks and harsh realizations last holiday season has brought with it. Annie tapped into all the reserve emotionally distressing places from which she'd been systematically distancing herself for years, and to her complete shock and terror, nothing resulted. She looked at the clock to see it was 2:16 and for the first time, she simply did not care. Oh my god, I'm becoming something inhuman. I'm a robot with no emotion. I'm supposed to be an emotional disaster right now and I feel fine. I should be crying and mourning another pathetic breakup at my expense... This should be at least six times more mortifying than it is. She was at a complete loss. She knew, somewhere in the back of her brain that the panic attacks and hysterics would come rushing in, but she'd tried everything.

Wait! Not everything.
She fired up her computer and signed onto her profile on facebook. Without a moments hesitation she clicked on the “photos of me” link and waited for what she knew would be the first image to load, and there it was. She and Brian at a party, beers in hand and huddled close for the picture. She stared at it for a few minutes and came to a final conclusion. This is a great picture of me, and there's not a chance in hell I'm de-tagging myself.
Not the reaction she was expecting.

4 hours earlier

Michael's coming by! Elisa announced from the hallway before entering the living room.

I'll go put pants on, Annie sighed and walked toward her room. She opened her closet and pulled a pair of blue jeans from the dresser. As she lifted them out, her phone fell out of the back pocket. She retrieved it from the floor and walked to her doorway, What should I change Brian to in my contacts? She shouted down the hall. The entry “Purgatory McLimboface” just didn't fit the resolve he had demonstrated the evening prior.

How about Brian? Lara suggested from across the hall.

Why don't you just take him out? Elisa chimed in.

Yeah, that works. I mean, if he calls, I'll have his number again. Annie recalled first meeting Brian: his jesting accusations that she was “pandering” before he scrawled his digits on the back of one of the flyers she was passing out on the quad. She had thrown that piece of paper away after they'd been together for a while, thinking it absurd to hold onto it when they talked so often. She looked fleetingly toward the wastebasket behind her and tried to muster up some emotion, maybe even enough to halfheartedly dig through the discarded papers and bottles to find the memento, but nothing came. She flipped open her phone and erased “Purgatory McLimboface” from her contacts and returned to the living room. From the chair by the couch, she mused over her newfound complacency. Looking out the sliding door to the campus outside, she saw bundled students walking past the building and wondered idly where they were coming from or if she knew any of them. She imagined, with a tinge of shame, about seeing Brian's fraternity brothers in her classes and having to explain why she wasn't going on any semester's end bar crawls with them, and for a moment she mustered some sort of emotion toward him: a faint annoyance that he probably wouldn't be considerate enough to tell anyone before she would have to explain, but her thoughts were cut off by the familiar knock of Michael at their apartment door.

Hey guys, Michael entered and began to remove his shoes and place them behind the chair, as per Annie's OCD demands for the living area. One pair of shoes per person. Lara always said she appreciated it becauseI she knew if anyone was staying over by counting footwear by the doorway. It's chilly out there. He removed his jacket and hat before plopping down on the couch next to Elisa. They talked in whispers for a few moments before Elisa looked in Annie's direction.

We're gonna watch a movie, she smiled warmly, and you should stay and watch it with us if you're not too tired. She turned back to Michael and exchanged a few more hushed whispers. Michael really wants to watch When Harry Met Sally.

This was the ultimate test. Annie had been avoiding this movie meticulously for a year. Elisa while trying to comfort her last Christmas, had rented it in hopes of cheering Annie up and reassuring her that Stan's abrupt change of heart was temporary and things would eventually click back into place. (It's comforting because it's a movie about friends who are meant for each other, she had consoled.) Annie looked at her roommate with wide eyes.
Do you think that this is the right time? I mean I didn't think that would be a good 'just got dumped' movie to watch.

You can handle it, Elisa reassured with confidence that Annie did not find comforting. However, given her lack of breakdown all day, she was looking for an excuse, any excuse, to jump start the panic attacks she knew were coming.

(Bring on the pain.) Annie gave Elisa a resolved nod and retrieved a drink from the fridge.

Two Hours Earlier

Nothing. She had given it a valiant effort. During the New Year's scene, she recalled that she wouldn't be kissing anyone this year at midnight, how when she had expressed that this was a desire of hers, how Brian had so quickly offered to make the trek to campus for New Year's Eve. Nothing. No heavy breathing, no racing pulse. She imagined herself on New Year's counting down until midnight, champaign glasses clinking in a new year's toast. She imagined herself singing Auld Lang Syne in the sleek black dress she'd planned on wearing. But there were no rushing images of everyone around her kissing and embracing while she shuffled awkwardly through the mess, no hopeful day dreams where Brian swooped in with a dazzling speech before granting her New Year's wish, just the calm reality that she would be out with loved ones toasting to a fresh start. Calm, calm, like the calm before a storm. She smiled at Elisa and Michael, That movie was excellent. She said, and without intending to be, she was completely sincere.

One Hour Earlier

Wanna have a cigarette on the porch? Lara poked her head into Annie's room.

Dear god, yes... Annie removed herself from her desk and grabbed a her sweatshirt from the back of the chair. The deck was cold, but most of the wind was blocked so Annie and Lara could lean against the rail comfortably and talk.

You doing alright? Lara asked it so casually, in a way that made it seem like she would only half listen to any answer anyway. She was always so good at diffusing something serious into something conversational.

I'm actually really good... and you know, Annie began tentatively, I feel like I should be more upset. I just got dumped by a guy I liked, who wasn't a complete dick... This is where it should have become sad an pathetic, where she would normally point out the cosmic cruelty of it all with the upcoming holiday and all her excitement, but things turned in a different direction than expected. ...But I'm intelligent and interesting and exciting and he made a huge mistake throwing it away on a whim. I'm going to be so successful, because I'm driven and passionate, and I'm so different from the people he's around all the time. I can hold my own when we're out together, I can hold my own in a discussion, I am making great decisions and taking care of myself, and he's just out there dicking around until he figures out exactly what he's missing in his life? I don't need that being put on me. I'm much happier out of the picture while he has an existential crisis. I can't tell him what it's all about, I'm too busy figuring that out myself, and obviously doing a better job than him since I'm not panicking my way out of something good. So if he figures it out, he can beg for my forgiveness and I'll probably emasculate him for a while before giving him a second shot, and if he doesn't want to be with me, it's his loss, because I am something unique and not altogether unattractive, and I'd make a damn good friend and a damn good girlfriend. It is, most definitely, his loss...

Wow, Lara lit Annie a second cigarette. I was gonna offer to take him out for you, but if you really believe that... Damn! I'm so proud of you!

Not really, Annie fumbled. Just the part about how I'm doing fine, which I really am by the way.... ...it's disconcerting.

Present Time

If the only thing you're worried about is NOT being worried, I think you should reevaluate this situation and go to bed. Elisa hugged her roommate and walked her to her room.

But something has to be wrong! I've tried everything and I'm just... Annie searched for the right word, and was disgusted with herself when she finally found it ...apathetic. Annie pulled back the covers on her bed, careful not to disturb the mountain of pillows at the head and gently slid herself between the sheets.
Maybe, you can only honestly have your heart torn to pieces once, and then after that, everything is small potatoes.

Maybe, goodnight. I love you. Elisa kissed Annie on the forehead and walked to the door.
If you need me for anything...

I know, Annie placed her phone in her charger and reached to turn out her bedside lamp. Goodnight! She said with a little more desperation that she liked.

Goodnight, Elisa returned and Annie could hear her chuckle as she closed the door to her room. She placed her right palm over her heart to see if it was beginning the race, but the familiar beats remained at a steady pace and lulled her toward sleep. Divine apathia, a miracle that would go without appreciation for Annie. She snuggled against the body pillow next to her and sang softly to herself, keeping time with the steady beat of her heart.

But in the case, I stand one little chance, here comes the Jackpot question in advance. What are you doing New Year's. New Year's Eve?

Thursday

Annie walked into her therapists office and stripped off her coat before taking her place amongst the pillows on the familiar couch behind her.
How have you been? Devon asked, as he took his place across from her.
Did anything get resolved? Are you feeling any less stress.
Annie made her usual mental perimeter sweep of the office before she began to speak. I am doing very well, and I find this incredibly disconcerting for the following reasons...

One Hour Later

Annie hit the shuffle button on the radio as she pulled out of her parking spot. She was at a red light when she heard something familiar on the radio. She hurriedly switched off the scan and turned the volume higher, and couldn't help but grin as she sang along:

Here comes the jackpot question in advance. What are you doing New Year's? New Year's Eve.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

The Players: An introduction to the cast

In the spirit of watching far too much of the L-word, a collection of short stories and installments starring poorly masked caricatures of ourselves and those closest to us. The names have been half-heartedly changed to protect the (not entirely) innocent, and contributions are welcomed by any of the four leading ladies with access to the blog....

Annie: Socially awkward and neurotic, penchant for emasculating anyone and everyone without regard to social norms or even common courtesy or empathy...

Elisa: SAINT -- no evidence exists that she has ever done anything selfish or even remotely based in any sort of vindictive nature. She lives very high up on a pedestal somewhere in the collective mind orgy of the players.

Chelsea: Judgmental to the point of posing a threat of landing her on a reality television show of the calibur of rock of love 2. Overly politically correct to the point of making everyone in a room feel uncomfortable discussing anything surpassing inane.

Lara: Prone to outbursts/psychotic episodes in which she is likely to brutally stab or at least seriously injure anyone in her immediate vicinity.

The Secondary Characters:

Kirk: aspiring musician: Rule of thumb: Kirk must be completely dismissive of anyone's thoughts/feelings/emotions/physical state of being at all times in the plot.

Michael: Long term boyfriend of Elisa: Rule of thumb: Michael must argue every point made by any individual whether or not it corresponds with any legitimate convictions on his part.

Brian: Whiny, and newly in touch with his emotions. Rule of thumb: Must have some sort of epiphany concerning his emotional well-being at least once per interaction.

Arik: Honest to a fault, he simply does not believe in anything other than full disclosure, no matter the cost to surrounding friends or family. Rule of thumb: Arik must say something brutally honest and completely unnecessary per interaction for the sake of complicating matters.

Stan: Self-involved to the highest possible extent and functions on an invented set of convictions that usually directly conflict with the emotional well-being of anyone but himself. Rule of thumb: Once per interaction, Stan must bring up exactly how O.K. he is with performing homosexual acts "experimentally."

Pryce: EXISTENTIAL. no more need be said

Ken(neth): Only contacts inidividuals in the cast to share news of his most recent successes and considers his presence at any event a gift of grand magnitude to those attending. Rule of thumb: Ken must make at least one of the main players uncomfortable per encounter in the same way that a creepy uncle does at family gatherings...

Pat: Bodyguard to a male star overseas. Jealous and aggressive, he tends towards extreme anger and intense rages for which he must appologize at each interaction. (Sleeps with hookers) Penchant for ultimatums and entirely false statements made for shock value purposes.

Bess: Thinks she is a vampyre (and yes, she will only spell it with a y) Borderline alcohol abuse issues. Rule of thumb: In each interaction Bess must be either a) drinking or b) pointing out and then lecturing on the inherently submissive behavior of women