Empty: An IM Story

[I (the blue) was sitting at my desk at work and describing this woman that walked past the big glass doors to my friend over Skype. As you can see, Hilary (the pink) and I ended up turning it into a story of sorts.]

There's this lady on campus that I see every once in a while and she's weird.

She's skinny with dyed blonde hair and she's probably in her 40s somewhere.

Today she was wearing all black clothes and lots of makeup.

I think her hair style was supposed to be fashionable, but it didn't work.

It's like she started with a messy pony tail that's all lumpy on top and then braided it to the side.

But what always throws me is that she carries around this HUGE 64oz cup from a 7/11 or something and she periodically refills it with soda.

It must be all she subsists on.

...That is weird

Maybe she's a soda junkie.

You know, like a heroin junkie.

But with Coke, instead.

She's just so odd she almost doesn't seem real.

Like she should be a character in a book or something.

Maybe you're imagining her.

Your socially-challenged fairy godmother

You could write about her!

Then she would have a personality too.

What kind of personality would she have?

I think she likes Miley Cyrus.

And maybe Justin Bieber too.

And she used to like Britney Spears.

But she doesn't mention that to anyone.

Of course not.

Britney's not cool anymore.

I bet she's obsessed with being young.

I agree.

If she's 40 and has that hairstyle...

I dunno, maybe she tanned and stretched the hell out of her skin so she only looks 40.

I think she actually is though.

Hm.

Maybe she went back to school, even, to feel young again.

Is spending all her savings on it because she never did manage to find that rich husband who would take care of her every concern.

I think she has a boyfriend who's younger than her.

I agree.

I bet she loves summer because she likes tanning and wearing less clothing.

She looks like a washed-out teen princess.

And only ever is seen consuming soda.

Which she has on her person at all times.

I think I saw her eat a salad once.

Oh.

WELL.

She probably likes skiing too.

And tennis.

Definitely.

Not so much swimming though because it messes up her hair and makeup.

Although lounging by a pool or sex in a hot tub is good.

I think she has had a string of boyfriends

Yep.

And never really gets attached to them, because they're just accessories, none of which seem to fit.

Most of them younger than her.

I think she's getting attached to this one, though.

And she doesn't really understand it.

He's cute.

And kind.

It scares her a little, and might cause her to bolt on the relationship soon.

She's starting to think it might be time to move on, try an older, richer man again.

He doesn't seem to pity her

He just /likes/ her, even spending time with her.

She likes pity.

Not just sex.

It equals presents.

She likes it /and/ disdains it.

She's a little confused.

Yes.

Just a bit.

Slightly.

It's all the sugar from the Coke.

I bet it's diet Coke.

Probably.

So it's not even real sugar.

Her nerves will be shot from it in a couple decades.

It's already been a couple decades.

She doesn't seem to get that though.

She just drowns it in prissy cocktails on the weekends followed by gallons of water so she doesn't get a hangover.

And home spas.

After a long weekend of partying.

You can't forget that.

Of course!

Have to do the nails up nice and touch up the dye job before the week starts again.

And fix her skin.

And the bags under her eyes.

She spends Sunday alone, primping and pinching.

It's lonely, but she tries to ignore that.

It's worth it to look so fabulous at the beginning of the week.

Right?

...Right?

Yes. It has to be.

She doesn't like to think too hard about that.

Or anything. it just makes life harder.

She isn't dumb though, she just doesn't know any other way.

And she's okay with that.

This is the closest approximation an average, unremarkable person can get to the life they show on TV, the life movie stars live.

So in a way...she's kind of like a celebrity. Which was always her dream.

It almost broke when she found out she didn't have a particular talent for singing or acting. Dancing takes far too much work.

But she's good at being young and beautiful and snagging men.

She still keeps an envelope of magazine clippings, though.

She likes to look at them sometimes.

But the feeling she gets from that is mixed. she doesn't fully understand it.

She likes things to be simple.

Straightforward.

Easy.

That's why she likes this guy so much

He doesn't ask a whole lot of questions. doesn't make things complicated.

Just the way she feels about him, but that's...not his fault, she supposes. It's just stupid.

Inconvenient.

It doesn't fit with her patterns.

So, she'll make it simple again.

Let him catch her looking at another guy.

Flirting.

He has such serious ideas about that sort of thing.

If she weren't...done with him, she might find that romantic. She did, once.

Now, it's just too much.

He'll end it for her, then.

A clean break.

And it will be better for both of them.

If she stops things now, it won't take too long to forget him in the search for her next guy.

She worries for a second that he'll see through her. That he'll know she's just trying to get away.

But no, that's never happened before.

He's not so different.

She has to go through with this anyway.

If she fails to, her life cannot go on as it has.

Things will change.

Change is bad.

She will have to admit that /she's/ changing. Getting old.

Tired.

Of everything. Even this boy, who she thought she really liked.

She feels trapped, suddenly.

Claustrophobic.

Like she knows that somehow, she missed a chance.

Something important.

Somewhere back along the line.

How did she get here?

She feels lost.

This isn't where she intended to end up.

She wants to go home, but then she thinks-- no.

She doesn't want to be alone.

In her dark house, with no one waiting up, the lights on for her.

She want to be around people. To draw energy from the dance floor.

Compulsively she grabs her soda and takes a long pull.

It makes her relax.

She starts to plan to go out.

Which club tonight?

Not one he'll be at...

It can't be tonight. she doesn't want him to see her like this.

She's all nerves, it's stupid. embarrassing.

She needs to be strong and beautiful.

Dancing will fix that. It'll calm her down.

It always does.

He must remember her, even if she's leaving him.

She wants him to miss her.

She wants to leave an imprint on someone.

She shakes her head. She's in a weird mood today.

It must be a blood sugar crash. She's heard those can affect your mood. Maybe she'll even have a salad, or something.

She wonders idly what to wear tonight.

It's important to plan her outfits carefully. she wants to turn heads, but it can't look like she tried.

It's a tough balance, but she prides herself on being a master of it. she's devoted her whole life to the study of appearances.

Makeup, clothes, shoes, and accessories. Each piece a part of the whole image.

Tonight she'll be bright and sparkly. She'll take the spotlight and forget she ever thought these things.

A fruity cocktail or two and everything will be just fine.

No men tonight. There's no point if he's not there to see it.

She doesn't want to think about him tonight.

She doesn't want to think.

She wants her mind to be clear, pure and clean like freshly fallen snow on the mountain's summit.

Maybe once all this is over...she'll go on a small vacation. treat herself to a ski resort somewhere.

Yes, that sounds good.

She nods to herself, picks up her soda and her fashionable bag, and wanders towards the door.

Tonight, she's going to just let go of everything.

It will be good. easy.

She'll stop feeling all this.

She smiles vacantly and goes through her closet in her head.

Under the Stars

It's almost 5 am and I'm sitting on the couch in my apartment writing by candlelight. I should be asleep. I should be working on my essay. I should be doing my readings for school. Instead, I just finished rebuilding my impromptu playlist from earlier tonight.

I didn't picture starting this way. I hoped to have some bubbly, happy, exciting tale to tell. I've been dying to write here though and since the last two weeks have not been bubbly and happy, I decided to start up again any ways. Don't worry though, it's not all doom and gloom. 

I don't have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, just work. So, when I got back to my apartment after my shift, I put on my pajamas, crawled into bed and picked up my book again. I've been reading The Hunger Games trilogy because me and a couple of my friends are going to see Suzanne Collins on Sunday. I finished the first two awhile ago. I was waiting until I finished re-reading Angels and Demons before I started Mockingjay. I started it yesterday and it was kind of slow at the beginning so it wasn't that hard to put it down. But, my boyfriend, whose book it actually is, has been waiting patiently for me to just start it already because I'm a much faster reader than he is. I felt guilty about taking so long getting to it, so I made myself pick it up in my spare moments, even if it was only for a page or two. Pretty quickly it sucked me in. I took it to work with me today to read on my lunch break. Since I'm basically a secretary, I spend a fair amount of time sitting at my desk. After my lunch break I was reluctant to stop reading. I did my job like I'm supposed to and only read when I was in between tasks. (there usually isn't that much for me to do so I go around and beg for something to do. When they don't have anything for me, I'm allowed to entertain myself with my homework or a book.) I promised myself that if I was good and did my job instead of spending my whole shift reading, I could come back to the apartment, finish the book and then take a nap (I slept four about four hours the night before).

That's exactly what I did. I curled up on my bed and commenced to read. I was maybe a quarter of the way into the book, probably less. I was guessing/hoping it would take me until around 7pm, at which point I could decide what to do next. I spent the next couple hours reading, only pausing to take bathroom breaks. I'll admit I did cry at the end of the book (If you're wondering why, read The Hunger Games for yourself.) and when I put it down I felt that weird combo of emotion that often accompanies finishing a book series I've become attached to: I want to be left alone to relive favorite moments and grieve or rejoice with the characters and yet, I also want someone to talk to and hug me. This time the urge to curl up by myself was by far the strongest. I called my boyfriend and told him that I'd finished and if he wanted he could come get his birthday t-shirt and the book from after midnight (when the zipcars get cheaper). I was still sniffling a bit and I think he knew something was up, but he had the grace not to push, for which I am grateful. I was exhausted so I decided to take a nap. I tried to fall asleep, but no such luck. The compulsion to get up and look up pictures of some of the plants from the book was really strong. But my computer is dying and it takes forever to start up and if I had gotten up to do that I knew I probably wouldn't get a nap at all. Stubbornly I stayed in my bed, resisting doing anything useful. I hit upon the idea of listening to music to help me sleep. I always fall asleep to music, the same CD my brother got me for Christmas more than five years ago, when I'm at home. But, here at college I don't have a CD player, so music soft enough that isn't accompanied by bright lights is kind of hard to accomplish. I also don't do so well trying to sleep with headphones on because I have the on-the-ears style rather than earbuds. I used the headphones anyways, assuming that when I was relaxed enough I'd take them off and fall asleep. Hayley Westenra seemed like a good choice because she has a beautiful voice and that is exactly what I was looking for (to know exactly why a beautiful voice singing soothing folk type songs was what I wanted you'd have to read the books). It worked better than expected. I fell asleep on my back with my headphones on, something that is usually impossible for me. I woke up 45 minutes later, took off the headphones and rolled over.

When I woke up next it was 11:40pm and I was still tired. I decided to get up regardless and finish Griff's birthday shirt (it's an idea stolen from my friend Sarah, who made her boyfriend pin a sign to his shirt on his birthday that said, "It's my birthday!", except Griff's is actually written on his shirt). I finished outlining the letters on the shirt while watching Lie To Me (which is a good show). I did actually look up the stuff from Mockingjay I'd been thinking about earlier. Eventually Griff did come. We just sat on the couch for half an hour, cuddling. It helped. He was reluctant to leave though and we kept extending his car reservation. After a while he said he was hungry and wanted McDonald's. I grabbed my iPod and my keys and we left.

We got food and gas. I was looking out the window and enjoying the feeling of riding around in a car. I don't like driving that much, and when I'm at school I don't have a car so I use my bike a lot. Don't get me wrong, I love my bike and walking everywhere makes me feel good, but it is really nice to just sit and look at the scenery flying by. Being driven around late at night by Griff is one of the few places I really feel relaxed and safe. The empty streets, my music coming out of speakers I can sing along to, seeing parts of Salem I don't get to see on my bike-- it's a treat. I told him as much and he kept driving. I have a good and kind boyfriend. : )

Originally we were going to just go over the bridge and drive through West Salem since I never get over there. But the bridge splits and you can either continue into West Salem or head towards the beach. Griff gave me the choice and I opted for the beach. I knew we wouldn't go all the way to the beach, but heading out that way is the fastest way we've found to escape the city lights.

Before Griff and I were dating we used to sit on top of his truck wrapped in a blanket and look at the stars. There's a pretty good view between his house and mine at home. Since we're in different cities and neither of us actually has car, we can't really do this anymore. A couple of times we've done it anyways. Like tonight. He drove for a while and I kept picking songs and feeding him french fries. We hit some fog right after we decided to stop and look at the stars which meant we had to go out further. Finally we got to a clear patch of road, pulled off and got out. The view was wonderful. There were tons of stars, way more than you can see in the cities both of us live in. The beach was still about an hour's drive away, but the air already had a touch of salt in it.

Just sitting on top of the car (a Scion, which is a piece of crap, by the way) looking up and breathing, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I hadn't forgotten how late it was, or how much I had left to do or anything, but just being away from the constant lights and the air you don't even realize isn't that clear was so nice. It's not the first time I've noticed that getting away from the city is good for me. Griff and I were both feeling heartsick one night, which is what started the hunt for a place to see the stars. We weren't very successful that night, but we did still manage to get out for a little while. The next time we wanted to get away from the city we had more success.

There was a Tualatin ceili that night and afterwards I was supposed to go to Portland with Griff. But I'd forgotten dress shoes, which I needed because we were going to the opera on Sunday. Griff drove me back to Salem to get them and we headed back towards Portland. We were talking about wanting to go see the stars so I said something to the tune of, "We should head towards the beach to get away from the lights." That made me want to go to the beach itself and I said as much. Griff sighed and then said, "Why not?" We stopped at a Safeway to get a snack, but it was at least 1:30am by that point and they were closed. We kept going. At some point we realized we needed gas so we stopped at a gas station with a convenience store attached. I talked Griff into buying me a map of Seaside as proof that we'd actually done this. When we got to Seaside, I had him pull over in downtown so I could take a couple of pictures of the lamps (see inserted picture). I thought, and still do, that the sea stars are a cute addition. We got back in the car and continued towards the beach. 

We parked as close as we could, got out and walked to the sand. I took off my shoes and we walked out towards the water. It was a cold night because spring hadn't really kicked in yet. The sand was freezing. I have this weird thing though where whenever I'm on the beach, I need to go in the water before we can leave. It's not super important, but I'm much happier and more balanced feeling if I do. The tide was out and maybe still going out at that point so even though the water didn't look that far away, it was. We saw some creepers on the beach a ways away, gathered around a fire. They were screeching and hollering at odd intervals. We pretended not to notice them. We got out to the water and I put my feet in. It was, unsurprisingly, colder than the sand. My feet were so numb that I paused to write "I <3 Griff" in the sand. Unfortunately this level of movement made some feeling come back to my feet and they started to burn and ache. We ended up jogging most of the way back to the sidewalk. Once we got to the car, we climbed in and sat, slowly thawing before starting back to Portland. On the way out of town I had Griff stop again so I could take a picture of this sign in front of an inn (see inset picture). They even had a really big carved Sasquatch next to the sign.

I made Griff stop again near this bridge as the sun was coming up. I'd been watching it out my windows and it was turning the sky a really brilliant blue. I don't see that color sky very often because I'm rarely up for the sunrise. My camera didn't like the amount of light and blues are not it's favorite color (though they are mine) which is why this is a bit blurry. You get the idea though. To get back to the bridge where you could actually see this view, we had to wind along the road a ways from the shoulder where we had pulled over. A couple of cars whipped past while I was trying to take pictures and the bridge shook each time. It was kind of scary. There were a couple of other places I would've liked to stop and take pictures, but there weren't any good places to stop for a lot of the trip back. We stopped at a McDonald's in a tiny town around 6am for some food. There were mostly farmer looking guys and they kept looking at us funny. The food tasted good though and it gave Griff the energy to get us back safely. We finally made it back to Portland around 7am. At that point the sun was almost all the way up and it looked like it was 11am, bright and sunny and a pleasant temperature. Once we got to his apartment we fell into bed in his way-too-bright-for-my-tastes room and conked out. It was one of the best nights I've had since I've been in college. 

Sitting on the crappy Scion (we had a nicer car that other night), looking at the stars, scenes from last spring kept popping in my head. I wish we could have gone all the way to the beach. Both me and Griff actually have class later today, believe it or not, so we had to come back. He had to go back to Portland pretty soon after getting me to Salem which leaves me where I started, sitting on my couch alone, writing by candlelight. It's kind of lonely, but I know I'll see Griff again later today at another Tualatin ceili. And even though I know I'll be exhausted later, I don't regret our small adventure. It was worth it to me for the brief lifting of that ever present weight that settles across my shoulders while I'm in the city. And I hope it was worth it for Griff. It's definitely an interesting way to start your birthday. Happy 21st Griff, I love you.