Red Charlotte

Just because I have a pathetic job where I have to dress like I work at a psycho ward, and serve filthy rich people instead of being served, doesn’t mean I am not a decent guy. I hate watching Charlotte, the woman I have loved for so long, be with another man. They usually come in about three times a week, but tonight they saw a show at the theater across the street, so Charlotte looked especially beautiful. She wore a red pencil dress, black pumps, and her red hair looked perfect—I have always loved her hair. Charlotte’s cheeks were a peachy pink, and her lips were a matte nude color. As she looked up at the menu on the wall, I admired her eyes, which I hadn’t had the chance to really gaze at in a while. I had forgotten how beautiful they are; hazel green with a bit of gold surrounding the pupils.
“We’ll have two martinis on the rocks,” that sleaze, who goes by ‘Ricky,' said. When he said that, Charlotte looked at him with confusion. He didn’t even ask her what she wanted- he ordered for her. I hate those kinds of guys; the kind who think for their women. If Charlotte was with me, I would let her make her own decisions.
Charlotte and I grew up together. We were neighbors from grade school to high school and we have dated each other, we’ve seen each other date other people, and we were always there for each other through heartbreak. Once we graduated high school, she left to California to attend some Ivy League school that her parents paid for while I was, and still am, stuck here in Chicago washing dishes and cleaning up after wealthy people. My parents never had the money to give me everything I wanted, as Charlotte’s parents did, but Charlotte never judged me for that, she accepted me. But when she is with Ricky, it’s as if she doesn’t talk to me because she’s not allowed. Ricky was the jealous and possessive type. Every time I tried to spark a conversation with Charlotte he would interrupt by kissing her neck, which made her laugh, or by loudly telling her something which overpowered what I was saying. Charlotte looked at me like she did when we were kids, with a spark of fascination in her eyes. It makes we wonder, Does she love me like I love her? I wish Ricky would have gone to the Men's Room or something so I could have had a chance to talk to her.
After 30 minutes, Ricky paid the bill without a tip, and possessively said “C’mon babe, let’s go” to Charlotte. As she gathered her purse and coat, Ricky went to the car and, finally, Charlotte and I were alone. She got up, walked to the door to leave, and then she stopped, as if she forgot something. She turned around, and said, “I…I really miss you Wally-Woo.” Wally-Woo is what she called me when we were kids. I wasn’t expecting that… I replied, shocked, “I miss you too.” We both smiled, and she walked out the door.
At that moment, I was happier than I had been in a long time. I turned to the man sitting alone at the bar and said, “That was the woman I love,” and he said back to me, “Well, if you don’t go get her, you are going to end up alone, like me.”
So... I went and got her.

The Life I Will Live

In my future condo I will have blank white walls, vibrant colored lofting furniture, and odd-shaped tables and chairs. I love the idea of wood floors, and maybe a throw-carpet or two. My kitchen will be spacious, with beautiful counters, an island, and a bar with stools. I will not keep alcohol in my house, because to me, alcohol is a social thing, not an “I have had a long day and need a drink” type of thing. I fear ever becoming an alcoholic, so I have made it a goal to never drink alone, ever. I will only drink at social events. I will keep healthy food in my fridge such as fruits, vegetables, yogurt, and organic meat. I will hardly be home to cook a good meal, so I don't think my fridge will ever be completely stocked. Music will always be on when I am home, and a vintage tea pot will always be on the stove, ready to heat water for my night's serving. My bedroom will be large, with those tall windows to wake up to, a large soft bed, artwork that friends have made me, and a walk-in-closet. I want the to wake up to the sun shining on my face every morning, or the snow falling from the sky. I want to watch lights of other buildings go out, and see planes and birds flying around.

I see myself as a hard-working big-time magazine editor, living in New York and loving every minute of my life. I am going to work with many people, help many people, and inspire many people. I can almost see myself as a workaholic, because that's pretty much what I am now, but if I love my job, I don't know if I would care too much. I want to wear beautiful clothing, and have a walk-in-closet with every type of clothing you can think of. I will have half of my closet for vintage clothing and half for name-brand clothing.

I will own a vintage clothing shop which features clothing that is altered by me, my colleagues, and vendors. I will hire young people who were like me as a teenager, ambitious and creative, and who want nothing but to inspire people to be individuals. I want my vintage clothing shop to be located in a big, old Victorian house in New York City. This house will have racks for hangers, shelves, and display cases for all of the vintage clothing, shoes, and jewelery. I would also like to have a sewing area with many sewing machines and materials for sewing so I can hold workshops and show people how to alter clothing to make it look better, or maybe just to tailor clothing so it can fit right. My colleagues and I will sell the vintage clothing we alter, and it will also be open for vendors who would like to sell their work. I would somehow like to intertwine my magazine editing job, and this job of owning an vintage shop, but I'm not quite sure how I would do that yet.

A goal of mine is to someday fly my mom to New York to stay with me for a week. I want to take her to dinner, Broadway shows, shopping, and whatever else she might want to do. That is one of my main goals in life. My mom has never been able to travel, or do anything very fun because she has never had very much money. My dad will most definitely not tag along, but I know that if I convinced my mom to visit me in New York, then she would have the time of her life. I want to make my mom proud, show her my apartment, and show her all the good things I am doing with my life. I will take her to work and introduce her to my colleagues, and I will show her what I do everyday. I will spoil her rotten, because no one has ever done anything like that for her before. This trip will be my treat entirely, actually, it would be an honor to treat my mom to such luxury.

When I have experienced these moments, I will know that I have reached success, but I won't stop there, my goals will only continue to grow.

Super Blow.

I have never, in my life, sat watched an entire football game. I don't get it, in fact, I don't think I like it either. "I am proud to be an American! I watch football while sitting around and eating junk!" Wow. I mean, now I can understand why all the other countries want to be nothing like us. Look what we do in our free time--watch football. I mean, yeah, it's cool that people have hobbies and are passionate about their teams and stuff, but..really? Why all the fuss? It's just a sport! The fact that America is sooo committed to football makes me a little ashamed. Some countries, like France, are committed to dining with their families for the company rather than the food and well-being. But us? Football. Man. It's out culture, it's what we are known for--alongside hamburgers and 'french' fries. Football, hamburgers, and french fries. Those things tie up the American culture. Get me out of here!

Currently listening to: John Mayer

Dance Dance.

Saturday night I went to The Eatery (small venue)  here downtown and it was more fun than I can explain. I don't think I have had that much fun in a long time. Good friends, silliness, dancin' (too much dancin', in fact), and donuts! Ah man. What could be better? The show was was incredible, and the best part was making new friendssss! I always love that. It's not often enough that I get to experience the night life of this town...well, because this town is usually just about as exciting as cleaning toilets. Someday I shall live in a big city and enjoy it's nightlife to the furthest extent, because I have definitely been deprived. I just want to dance dance, everyday and all night. Is there really so much wrong with that?

Somehow (I have a feeling it was from sharing drinks at the The Eatery), I got sick and woke up with the shivers this morning. Yeah, I know. Horrible! You know, that sickness when you are cold, even if you have 3 blankets on you, and then after 2 minutes you are hot from all the blankets. BLAHAHHASG! So, I soaked my immune system in Yerba Mate and Green tea, Ibuprofen, and Orange Juice, and I am feeling much much much better. That is the thing about me, I do know how to take care of myself. Obvioulsy not when I'm having fun at the eatery, but I do know how to cure the consequences of that fun. So, when sick, drink green tea (or Yerba Mate--it has much more antioxidants), because it WILL help you out!




This is Yerba Mate loose-leaf tea. I STRONGLY suggest it. www.guayaki.com
Don't forget your bombilla, it's the easiest way to drink loose-leaf!

Currently listening to: "Plastic Bubble"- Animal Liberation Orchestra (ALO)