Sometimes, I think my roommate is on speed:
It is a typical Friday night.
My day was spent mostly asleep until noon, when I promptly took a shower and decided I was going to get my laundry done. I walked past the television on my way to the kitchen to make myself eggs to kickstart my day and Project Runway was on so duh, I sat down and watched it with Kait. Of course afterwards you have to watch Models of the Runway, and then 30 Rock to put you in a better mood than the one that watching jaded brown-nosing waifs moan about their walks put you in.
Then roommate no.3 (according to this years Census. I'm number 2, what?) calls with news of "what-a-fine-day", then "my-car-is-fixed-let's-go-anywhere" and so we go antiquing in Mamaroneck (again, duh) and I marveled at a tea-cup collection, Kait at a carrying-case and Lauren at some chairs. At this point I remember: 1) I am not wearing a jacket and it is very cold outside. (The man standing outside the store inviting people in is wearing a thick down coat with gloves and a hat. I am still trying hard to please the pseudo-hipster inside with my white V-neck, a button-up plaid unbuttoned over that, jeans and my fake nike high-tops. No coat. No gloves. No hat. Not even a pseudo-hipster scarf you could swear I got at Salvation Army.) and 2) I have not eaten anything and it is 4:37pm and we are fast approaching dinner time. I mention out loud a few times how hungry I am with the hopes that one of them will catch on and be hungry too. Lauren does. So does Kait. We eat at a Peruvian restaurant and I note our waitress's fine ass silently to myself while I order Combo #2: 1/2 chicken, arroz, pollo, and frijoles. Kait gets the fish and Lauren gets the shrimp soup and we talk about how we want to go to Peru. I don't want to go to Peru but I do want to go to Barcelona, where I imagine it is bright and hot, and there should be lots of mosaics and being sweaty just looks good there, you know? I don't mention any of this, but I don't pretend that I want to go to Peru so really I am not lying. The news is on while we eat our food. There is a segment on police dogs. This reminds Lauren of the richest family in the town that she lived in who purchased trained attack dogs from Germany. They only spoke German. ("They only spoke German?" Kait tried to correct her.) "My doctor got a call from the family and had to leave because one of the German-trained attack dogs had de-gloved a grandchild's hand. Like when you take a mitten off, but really you're taking off the skin." Lauren explains, and I imagine my hand without it's skin. My mouth tastes sour.
We eat our food, we pay, we drive home. My high-tops are quite small and my feet are quite wide so by this point my last three toes are numb but who cares. Kait gets dropped off at the train station. Lauren and I go home.
Quite soon after, Kat comes over. I am trying to heal our friendship but I find that I remain uninterested in the things she is talking about so we watch Lost for about five hours. I am intermittently doing my laundry. Kat leaves at midnight; my laundry is done and in a pile but somehow my room is still as messy as before and so I begin. I clean from my door to my window, starting with my dresser. Unpack, keep, throw away, dust off, try on, put away. I move to my desk. Dust and dirt and things stick to my cold feet. The floor sticks to my feet. I move to my bed. I do not make it but I put new pillow cases on. I am feeling good, steady. The kitchen is still a mess but that comes next. And then: Kait comes home.
I could hear her from the elevator. There was no real way to know that it was her but the timing worked out perfectly so I guessed (also perfectly). I was tucking away some old shirts underneath my bed and I heard her come in. The first thing she did was peek in the kitchen and I heard her say something. I know she detests a dirty kitchen. It was on my list of things to clean next, but I realize it is one am. Shit. I stumble over to her and raise my hand (peace): "Kait - I'm cleaning." I see her eyes. They are large, she is filled with something, she states that she has to pee and that she is glad that I am cleaning. Immediately upon emptying her bladder is she fierce and in the kitchen. She is a blur and she is speaking to herself (this is not uncommon, I am used to it) and I have no idea what she is saying but I do know to be out-of-her-way. So I am, but they are my dishes, I like to wash them and I want to, so I steal a few and wait in my (our) room with them until she is done so that I can do some. Sometimes, I think my roommate is on speed.
My day was spent mostly asleep until noon, when I promptly took a shower and decided I was going to get my laundry done. I walked past the television on my way to the kitchen to make myself eggs to kickstart my day and Project Runway was on so duh, I sat down and watched it with Kait. Of course afterwards you have to watch Models of the Runway, and then 30 Rock to put you in a better mood than the one that watching jaded brown-nosing waifs moan about their walks put you in.
Then roommate no.3 (according to this years Census. I'm number 2, what?) calls with news of "what-a-fine-day", then "my-car-is-fixed-let's-go-anywhere" and so we go antiquing in Mamaroneck (again, duh) and I marveled at a tea-cup collection, Kait at a carrying-case and Lauren at some chairs. At this point I remember: 1) I am not wearing a jacket and it is very cold outside. (The man standing outside the store inviting people in is wearing a thick down coat with gloves and a hat. I am still trying hard to please the pseudo-hipster inside with my white V-neck, a button-up plaid unbuttoned over that, jeans and my fake nike high-tops. No coat. No gloves. No hat. Not even a pseudo-hipster scarf you could swear I got at Salvation Army.) and 2) I have not eaten anything and it is 4:37pm and we are fast approaching dinner time. I mention out loud a few times how hungry I am with the hopes that one of them will catch on and be hungry too. Lauren does. So does Kait. We eat at a Peruvian restaurant and I note our waitress's fine ass silently to myself while I order Combo #2: 1/2 chicken, arroz, pollo, and frijoles. Kait gets the fish and Lauren gets the shrimp soup and we talk about how we want to go to Peru. I don't want to go to Peru but I do want to go to Barcelona, where I imagine it is bright and hot, and there should be lots of mosaics and being sweaty just looks good there, you know? I don't mention any of this, but I don't pretend that I want to go to Peru so really I am not lying. The news is on while we eat our food. There is a segment on police dogs. This reminds Lauren of the richest family in the town that she lived in who purchased trained attack dogs from Germany. They only spoke German. ("They only spoke German?" Kait tried to correct her.) "My doctor got a call from the family and had to leave because one of the German-trained attack dogs had de-gloved a grandchild's hand. Like when you take a mitten off, but really you're taking off the skin." Lauren explains, and I imagine my hand without it's skin. My mouth tastes sour.
We eat our food, we pay, we drive home. My high-tops are quite small and my feet are quite wide so by this point my last three toes are numb but who cares. Kait gets dropped off at the train station. Lauren and I go home.
Quite soon after, Kat comes over. I am trying to heal our friendship but I find that I remain uninterested in the things she is talking about so we watch Lost for about five hours. I am intermittently doing my laundry. Kat leaves at midnight; my laundry is done and in a pile but somehow my room is still as messy as before and so I begin. I clean from my door to my window, starting with my dresser. Unpack, keep, throw away, dust off, try on, put away. I move to my desk. Dust and dirt and things stick to my cold feet. The floor sticks to my feet. I move to my bed. I do not make it but I put new pillow cases on. I am feeling good, steady. The kitchen is still a mess but that comes next. And then: Kait comes home.
I could hear her from the elevator. There was no real way to know that it was her but the timing worked out perfectly so I guessed (also perfectly). I was tucking away some old shirts underneath my bed and I heard her come in. The first thing she did was peek in the kitchen and I heard her say something. I know she detests a dirty kitchen. It was on my list of things to clean next, but I realize it is one am. Shit. I stumble over to her and raise my hand (peace): "Kait - I'm cleaning." I see her eyes. They are large, she is filled with something, she states that she has to pee and that she is glad that I am cleaning. Immediately upon emptying her bladder is she fierce and in the kitchen. She is a blur and she is speaking to herself (this is not uncommon, I am used to it) and I have no idea what she is saying but I do know to be out-of-her-way. So I am, but they are my dishes, I like to wash them and I want to, so I steal a few and wait in my (our) room with them until she is done so that I can do some. Sometimes, I think my roommate is on speed.