Keep Your Memories Safe

We only met once, 3 years ago at the shittiest bar in Houston, Texas. Andrew sat at a table with the rest of his family and his new sister-in-law, my dear friend Rebecca. I sat and quickly introduced myself, not feeling for a moment self-conscious because they were the most inviting group of people I have ever encountered, and maybe that’s because they were british, but I digress. I sat next to Andrew, and soon we were enveloped in conversation; I attempted a weak English accent and we talked about the differences of life in the states vs life in England.

We were quick friends.

Andrew went home to England and I stayed stateside but it never mattered because in the thick of it all we corresponded. We’d catch up on occasion and he often waxed poetic about the fact that he never kissed me the first time we met. Oceans apart, I cared for Andrew the way I care for the people I see daily. 

Three days ago Andrew was killed in an auto-pedestrian accident on his way home from watching a football game. 

Today I am crushed, I am crying, and I am thinking about him. There are great injustices in this world and the loss of a person like Andrew is one of them. To the friends who knew him, his extended family, they lost someone who radiated joy and made life a blast, to his immediate family they lost a brother and a son and condolences seem like barely enough.

We are going to miss you, Andrew, all of us, everyone you ever spoke to and anyone who had the incredible fortune of meeting you. I’m sorry that I never gave you that kiss, and it seems that fate in all her cruelty will have us wait just a bit longer for it to happen, but I assure you that you are first on the list.

Sleep well, sweet Griff, at least you have your father to keep you company, I’ll see you soon enough.

xx 

Choose Your Own Adventure

9 months ago Tim broke up with me, and I reflect on that and think about what has changed since that day in March. I'm feeling vulnerable lately, not something I particularly favor feeling but something I cannot change; it's quite cold today.

I was awakened by building inspectors this morning, they knocked on my door with authority as I shot up out of bed and scrambled to find the nearest article of clothing that one could conceivably pass off as "pants". I answered the door with eyes still blurry making their best attempt at adjusting to the daylight that breached my patio doors "Hi! We're building inspectors, did you know we were coming?!" what in the literal fuck is happening right now? "No, sorry, please give me a few minutes to get my shit together, you can come in when I come to" said I to the Inspector. Hurried I picked up things from the floor, tied up trash bags and consolidated what mess I could gather, "good Lord, I'm not ready for this shit but hey, fuck it, whatever" and with that the Inspector entered.

He made his way around, flipping switches, checking the stove, judging me. "I'm just making sure everything is in working order" he said to which I could only reply "well, my AC is broken so if you don't mind mentioning that to my landlord that would be doing me a solid" he assured me that he'd mention it but added that it probably would not provoke my landlord into actually fixing it. The inspector checked the heater "does it ever really get warm in here?"

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA...is that a real question?

 I looked at him and with a straight face I told him that between the huge gaps in the patio doors and high as fuck ceilings I was lucky if I could keep the temperature between 69-70 degrees. He used this little ray gun type device to check the temperature of the air blowing from the ducts "well, the heater only blows air that is about 70 degrees so there's no way it gets too warm in here".

No fucking shit.

Alas came the end of his tour and before his exit he opened the oven to reveal the fucking plastic cake plate that was in my oven, melting because he turned on the god damned oven before he walked all over my fucking apartment. "Uhhh. is that plastic?" he muttered "Don't touch that right now, it's hot as hell." Seriously, dude? For fucks sake, not only did you wake me up and proceed to jostle my life around but you melted my fucking cake plate and almost started a chemical fire?

Okay, cool.

I stepped outside and spoke to my landlord for like, a millisecond "hey, did you happen to leave me a copy of the new lease agreement?" you'v really done it now, Elle. "I'll bring it tomorrow; will you have the rent?" deafening 30 second pause "Yup, just need to go to the bank"


I don't have rent because I'm poor and can't really afford to live here anymore, so you know, your rent is always late.

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

happy new year I am losing my mind. 

If you're up there, Lord, please I could use a break right about now. Anything. Real estate market crash? New fabulous job that includes a benefits package and 65k a year? Armageddon? I'll take it all, man.


Also, if you're listening still, I'd like to fall in love again, you know, maybe for real this time? Or whatever, no big deal.

Okay, well, KIT, see you at temple. <3 p="">