dirty dishes, broken smiles.
today’s dish: breaded chicken with sweet pepper relish and cheddar jack on a bed of arroz primavera
today’s song: Waiting- The Justin Allen Trio (www.myspace.com/justinallentrio)
couldn’t include an mp3 link for this song, because you should REALLY buy “dive in deep.”
…..and the start of another hectic day.
last night, on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, the roomie and PM, another friend, entered the domicile in a loud fashion. roomie’s brother, G, was already in the house, but joined in the loud carousing. awesome. shortly thereafter, my friend D showed up, and there was cooking, the TV was on, and i had to get out into the common space. our walls are paper thin. my bedroom door is paper thin. my patience is paper thin.
needless to say, i wasn’t back in bed until 5 or so a.m. one guest was too warm, so he turned on the air conditioner- i was frozen solid when i awoke to more loud voices later in the day. TV blaring, i walk into the living room where i see PM, JA, J, G, roomie, and his other brother, R. they’re spitting the normal convo, so i move into the kitchen to make coffee. there is a pile of dishes in the sink. regardless, i start to make myself some eggs.
the men diseperse slowly, and as roomie starts to leave, he says
baby girl, take care of those dishes inthe sink, clean this up a little
seriously?! seriously! fuck you. i wasn’t up cooking in the early morning hours. he had even reprimanded me during the whole shebang in that time about how i don’t wash the dishes the proper way. now, though, since he didn’t want to clean up the bowls and plates and ots and pans and silver, it didn’t matter. it will probably matter later when he decides i didn’t wash them properly again.
so, the boys left, and A called. she wanted to stop by and see me. mind you, she and roomie have a history. roomie does not want to see her around me, especially not in our apartment, even though he claims he has no feelings for her, but, she’s
a friend, baby girl, but you gotta understand- if i keep seeing her around i’ll be feelin’ ill.
A stops by, I pour her some coffee and we sit on the love seat. we are talking for maybe five or so minutes when i hear keys in the door. she was already chugging her coffee. “well, thanks for the coffee,” she said, stubbing out her cigarette.
this is shit. really?? i can’t be friends with someone my roommate was intimate with? it isn’t like they were serious or anything….he even said that he was the one who stopped calling her and started pushing her away. what the hell?
after A left, roomie gave me another lecture on her.
she got her own apartment, why you can’t hang out over there?
i explained that she was stopping over to check on me in between leaving work and heading to another job. he was still tripping about the whole thing, so i made him some coffee and a piece of toasted pannetone. then…i came and laid down in my room. he and G are still rapping about bullshit in the kitchen. amazing.
i am actually kind of glad to have IV therapy. no one i know will be there. not really sure whether that should be such a comforting fact, or it should make me feel even more alone. maybe it doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to get all deep or anything, it just feels like there is way too much fucking conflict in my life that is not mine. i do not own it, it does not belong to me, it’s not my drama- i hate drama that isn’t on stage or screen, but i guess that makes a majority of the people who roll through here…….actors.
