Miss Misery
Page 3
[x]Like high school:of course not
[x] Want to get married:I defy you, patriarchy
[x]Type w/ your fingers on the right keys:I defy you, patriarchy!
[x] Believe in yourself:of course not—I am a unicorn!
[x] Like thunderstorms:yesssssssssssssssss
---IN THE PAST MONTH DID/HAVE YOU---
[x] Gone to the mall:I defy you…fuck it, yes I did to get tights.
[x] Eaten sushi:mmmmmmmyes
[x]Been dumped:always leave them wanting more
[x] Dyed your hair:I am no longer a teenager, thank you
[x] Stolen anything:I refuse to answer this on the advice of my attorney
---HAVE YOU EVER---
[x] Flown on a plane:as opposed to flying on a…?
[x]Told a guy/girl that you liked them:only in esperanto
[x] Cried during a movie:I wear sunglasses during sad movies to prevent eye leakage
[x] Had an imaginary friend:yes but she came true
[x]Been in a fight:I was the featherweight champion of grade 7
[x] Shoplifted:have you met my attorney? he’s really very persuasive.
---THE FUTURE---
[x] Age you hope to be married:109
[x] Number of children:unsure, however I do believe the children are the future
[x] How do you want to die:in a tragic but inevitable hot-air balloon accident
[x]What do you want to be when you grow up?taller
---FAVORITES---
[x] Fave color(s):vermilion
[x] Day/night:night
[x]Summer/winter:summer
[x] Fave food: sashimi
[x]Fave movies:mmmmmTIE: rushmore, georgy girl, my beautiful laundrette, dirty dancing
[x] Fave sport:getting to third base
---RIGHT NOW---
[x] Right now wearing:tank top, pajama pants with monkey heads on them
[x] Drinking:ginger ale
[x]Thinking about:how many questions could possibly be left on this stupid thing
[x] Listening to:“You Can’t Hide Your Love Forever” by Orange Juice
---DO YOU BELIEVE IN---
[x]Destiny/fate:not usually
[x] Angels:not the ones with wings
[x]Ghosts:sometimes
[x] UFOs:no
[x]God:that’s so last century
---FRIENDS AND LIFE---
[x]Do you ever wish you had another name:yes. Catarina Amarynth Piccadilly. I have business cards that detail the name change in full.
[x]Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend:not tonight
[x] What’s the best feeling in the world:sex? eating japanese food? DOING BOTH AT THE SAME TIME?????!?!?!?
[x] Worst Feeling:xhangoversx
[x]What time is it now:after dark before morning
---HAVE YOU/DO YOU---
[x] Do drugs:only when they are available
[x] Pray:only during hangovers
[x] Gotten drunk:I am taking a night off tonight
[x] Run away from home:actually, I walked
[x] Made out with a stranger:too many times to count
[x]Three words that sum you up:tastes great, less-filling (sorry about the hyphen!)
---SOCIAL LIFE---
[x] Boyfriend/girlfriend:currently accepting applications
[x] Attend church:only when I need a place to hide from vampires
[x] Like being around people:everyone except vampires (j/k deb!)
[from http://users.livejournal.com
/˜thewronggirl87]
---YOUR FULL NAME IS---
[x] Ashleigh Courtney Bortch
---DESCRIBE---
[x]The shoes you wore today:black chucks
[x] Your eyes:blue
[x]Your fears:angry people, going deaf or blind, plane crashes
---WHAT IS---
[x] Your first thought waking up:don’t wanna go 2 school
[x]The first feature you notice in the opposite sex:music taste?
[x] Your best physical feature:ha
[x]Your bedtime:midnight
[x] Your most missed memory:when I was happy
---DO YOU---
[x] Smoke:no
[x]Curse:try not to
[x] Take a shower everyday:absolutely
[x]Have any crushes:mmmmm…maybe!
[x] Who are they:not going to say HERE!
[x]Do you think you’ve been in love:once
[x] Want to go to college:hopefully
[x]Like high school:NO
[x] Want to get married:hopefully
[x]Type w/ your fingers on the right keys:dunno
[x] Believe in yourself:I used to
[x]Like thunderstorms:no! scary.
---IN THE PAST MONTH DID/HAVE YOU---
[x] Gone to the mall:yep
[x] Eaten sushi:no
[x]Been dumped:…
[x] Dyed your hair:yes
[x]Stolen anything:gum
---HAVE YOU EVER---
[x] Flown on a plane:not for a long time
[x] Told a guy/girl that you liked them:yes
[x]Cried during a movie:every movie
[x] Had an imaginary friend:yes, wish I still did
[x] Been in a fight:yes
[x] Shoplifted:just that gum
---THE FUTURE---
[x] Age you hope to be married:23?
[x]Number of children:ONE
[x] How do you want to die:painlessly
[x]What do you want to be when you grow up:a writer
---FAVORITES---
[x] Fave color(s):black
[x] Day/night:night
[x]Summer/winter:both
[x] Fave food:sesame chicken, taco salad, pb+j
[x] Fave movies:saved!, donnie darko, the matrix, can’t hardly wait
[x] Fave sport:sports are stupid
---RIGHT NOW---
[x] Right now wearing:drive-thru records PJs
[x] Drinking:vitamin water
[x] Thinking about:litmag
[x]Listening to:“Deja Entendu”—Brand New
---DO YOU BELIEVE IN---
[x] Destiny/fate:yes
[x] Angels:yes
[x]Ghosts:I try not to
[x] UFOs:no
[x]God:not like everyone else does
---FRIENDS AND LIFE---
[x]Do you ever wish you had another name:just another life
[x] Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend:no. boys don’t like me.
[x] What’s the best feeling in the world:going to a concert
[x]Worst feeling:getting yelled at
[x] What time is it now?:10:30 p.m.
---HAVE YOU/DO YOU---
[x] Do drugs:no drugs are gross
[x]Pray:not really, not anymore
[x] Gotten drunk:no way. sXe!
[x]Run away from home:it didn’t work
[x] Made out with a stranger:no!
[x]Three words that sum you up:bruised. bitter. poetic.
---SOCIAL LIFE---
[x] Boyfriend/girlfriend:I wish you’d stop asking
[x] Attend church:when I am forced to
[x] Like being around people:no one I’ve met yet…
Chapter Three: My Aim is True
THE NIGHT AFTER AMY LEFT, I met Jack and Pedro for drinks at the Sparrow, the dank indie-rock bar a few blocks away from my house. Jack and Pedro were my “friends” in quotation marks—we saw one another socially, usually in the neighborhood, and talked shop: word rates, records, box scores. Jack was tall, aggressive, and quasi-bearded, with a shaggy mane of black hair that trailed to his shoulders; Pedro was painfully skinny, rocked a crew cut, and was fabulously gay. One was a journalist and one was a publicist, but sometimes it was hard to remember which was which.
“So, baby,” Pedro said as he rattled the ice in his empty glass, “how’s single life?”
“Not great,” I said. And finished my third beer. In my own insulated and self-denying way, I was beginning to register the enormity of life
without my girlfriend. It was, I imagined, the same sort of realization that dawns on someone who has been thrown out of a window: not so much that death is imminent, but that suddenly there is no longer a floor to hold the ground at bay.
“You should come out with us, man,” Jack said, leaning dangerously far back in his chair. “We can show you a good time.”
“Yeah?” I said.
“Yeah.” Jack played with an unlit cigarette as he talked. “Diplo is playing a Brazilian dance hall set at APT tonight, and there’s a record-release party for Oral B at the Gansevoort.”
“I thought that was last night?”
“No, dummy,” Pedro said. “That was his prison release party. This one’s for the record.”
“Oh,” I said. And felt the ground getting closer.
“You should come with us.” Jack sat up. “Pedro, when was the last time young David hung out with us?”
“Do you mean had two beers and went home to wifey? Or hung out hung out?”
“The latter.”
Pedro chewed ice thoughtfully. “That would be never.”
Jack stood up. “Exactly. I’m going to the john. Get me another?”
I watched him make a beeline for the back and wondered how he managed to have so much energy all the time. Just the thought of getting on the train to Manhattan at eleven p.m. paralyzed me with terror. Or apathy. I turned to Pedro.
“The Hague,” I said drunkenly. “What is that? What kind of a city begins with ‘the’? Seriously, I’m asking. Are there any others in the world?”
“Los Angeles,” said Pedro with a smirk. “Las Vegas. Las Cruces.”
“OK, OK,” I said. “Fine. But that doesn’t count. That’s Spanish.”
“So am I,” said Pedro as he handed me his empty glass. “Do I count, David?”
“Touché,” I said. And wandered up to the bar.
When I returned, drinks in hand, the two of them were looking at me strangely.
“We think you should come with us, David.” Jack’s eyes were bright.
“We will get you laid,” added Pedro, enunciating each vowel.
I sat down. “Um,” I said.
“Come to the bathroom with me,” Jack said.
I gave him a funny look. “I thought he was the gay one,” I said, pointing to Pedro.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Come to the bathroom with me and do a bump.”
Suddenly I understood their relentless energy.
“You guys,” I said. “It’s Monday night.”
Pedro tut-tutted me. “Technically it’s almost Tuesday morning.”
“No, you guys…I’ve never…no. Thanks, but no. I have work to do tomorrow.”
“You had work to do today and you didn’t do it. You’ve been complaining about it for almost two hours.”
I felt suddenly small and predictable. “That’s just not me, guys. Sorry.”
Pedro rolled his eyes. “Why not? Because you’re Mr. Responsible? With a job and a girlfriend waiting for you? Because correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t sound like you’ve got either of those things just now.”
I watched their jittery, pirouetting eyes and could feel the anxious energy coming out of them, and for a second I wanted it—desperately. But instead I sipped my beer, resigned myself to routine.
“Maybe another time. Thanks.”
“Your loss,” said Pedro, and scooted off to the bathroom himself.
An hour later, once I had locked the door of my apartment behind me, thrown my bag to the floor, and managed to make the walls stop swimming, I pulled out my cell phone and texted Bryce:
Hey man things are no good here. She left.
She really did it. Feeling pretty empty.
Call if you can. Not sleeping soon.
I hit SEND and regretted it, but not enough to send a follow-up. Because the thing was, it was true. The only thing I was full of was Brooklyn Lager, and that hardly counted.
I sat down at my desk without turning any lights on and flipped open my computer. I signed onto IM and watched my buddy list fill up with the usual assortment of half-strangers, insomniacs, people who accidentally left their computers on at work, and…no one. She wasn’t there. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved.
Just then, a window popped open.
TheWrongGirl87: hey
TheWrongGirl87 was seventeen-year-old Ashleigh Bortch from just outside Salt Lake City, Utah. I had interviewed her—or IMterviewed her, because we’d never spoken except on a computer screen—for the magazine story, and she had checked in with me almost daily ever since. Ashleigh was an emo kid, through and through, from the overly dramatic bands she obsessed about to the bleeding-heart poetry she scribbled in her livejournal, but she was something else too, behind all the clichés. She was smart, she was eager, and she was trying—something, anything. There was an ambition in her that I admired and recognized. Her parents certainly didn’t; according to them, Ashleigh was headed straight toward premed at BYU. According to her, she planned to one day be a writer and live somewhere “different” like Boston or maybe even Berkeley.
davidgould101: Hey there, Ashleigh. What’s new?
TheWrongGirl87: nmu?
davidgould101: Oh…ya know. Stuff.
TheWrongGirl87: yr up late
davidgould101: Yeah. I didn’t get anything done today. So I thought I’d sit here a little longer.
TheWrongGirl87: longer? its like 1am.
davidgould101: OK, a lot longer.
davidgould101: I couldn’t sleep.
TheWrongGirl87: wheres yr gf?
davidgould101: She left.
davidgould101: Today.
TheWrongGirl87: oooo. sorry, man.
davidgould101: Yeah. Me too.
davidgould101: It’s ok.
TheWrongGirl87: dont worry i still think yr cool
davidgould101: Yeah? Thanks.
TheWrongGirl87: np
davidgould101: I think that just proves you don’t know me very well.
I stood up then, stretched, and walked through my dark living room to the kitchen for another beer. I cracked it, drank deeply, and stared out the window for a moment. The light in my fridge—like many of the other bulbs around the house—had burned out, and I hadn’t gotten around to replacing it. I think Amy and I were playing psychological chicken over who would actually act responsible first. As if there was ever any doubt about that.
Through the gated window to my left I could see into the backyards and bedrooms of all my neighbors. Unfortunately for the voyeur in me, everyone seemed to be asleep. One of the rare disadvantages of living in a neighborhood where strollers outnumber hipsters three to one.
I closed the refrigerator and padded barefoot back through my apartment. When I was settled in front of the glow of my laptop again, I noticed something: Miss Misery was online. I was worried about her then, to be honest. She was getting less sleep than I was. I put my headphones on and hit PLAY on iTunes. “On to You” by the Constantines started up. As good a song for an insomniac as I could hope for.
My IM window with Ashleigh was blinking angrily.
TheWrongGirl87: u still there?
TheWrongGirl87: halloooooo
TheWrongGirl87: my dad just asked why I was up and I told him homework. I don’t think he remembered that classes are over.
davidgould101: Hey, sorry. I’m here. Was just getting a drink.
TheWrongGirl87: juicy juice?
davidgould101: Cute. No. Beery beer.
TheWrongGirl87: yick.
davidgould101: Don’t knock it till you try it.
davidgould101: Wait, scratch that: Don’t try it. You’re 17.
TheWrongGirl87: and a half. But I’m not going to try it. It’s gross.
davidgould101: Yeah. You don’t need it.
TheWrongGirl87: I don’t? do you?
davidgould101: Touche. But sadly, yes. The answer is yes.
TheWrongGirl87: :-(
TheWrongGirl87: peopl
e at school drink some but most of them just do pills.
davidgould101: Oh yeah? Like ephedrine, crap like that?
TheWrongGirl87: lol. no way dude that’s like middle school. xanax, adderall. um. that diet pill that gave people heart attacks. ritalin.
davidgould101: Wow. When I was in middle school I did “Our Town.”
TheWrongGirl87: well yr old.
davidgould101: Don’t remind me.
davidgould101: :’-(
TheWrongGirl87: tell me about new york again
davidgould101: Ok. What else do you want to know?
TheWrongGirl87: Is it cold there now?
davidgould101: Cold? No way. It’s June. It’s warm. Kinda perfect.
TheWrongGirl87: When does it get cold again?
davidgould101: You like the cold that much you can have it! Not until like October. It has to get hot first!
TheWrongGirl87: how hot?
davidgould101: Really hot. Humid hot. Stupid hot. That starts in July.
TheWrongGirl87:…
TheWrongGirl87: I want to see it hot and cold. that’s awesome.
davidgould101: That’s the wrong attitude. You should see it when it’s not-yet hot and not-yet cold, that’s NYC at its best.
TheWrongGirl87: yeah
TheWrongGirl87: I guess
TheWrongGirl87: but things never stay lukewarm or in the middle like that
TheWrongGirl87: so whats the point?
I didn’t have a good answer for that, so I told Ashleigh to be good and good night. But I didn’t go to bed yet. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t want to face the covers alone or if I didn’t want to face them drunk, but I logged onto Miss Misery’s diary instead. There was a new entry:
[from http://users.livejournal.com/˜
MzMisery]
Time: 12:02 a.m.
Mood: Excited!
Music: Bloc Party, “Banquet”
So.
I did it.
I told my dad and it’s official.
I. Am. Moving. (I’m typing it slowly, the way I’d want to say it if I could talk out loud without my dad thinking I’m either (a) insane or (b) insane enough to have snuck another guy into my bedroom after the Shane fiasco.)
So: I am FUCKING MOVING!
TO NEW YORK!!!
Wow. I just took 20 seconds to read that on the screen. I can’t believe it’s happening. But it is. At the end of the month. Tracee said she can hook me up with a waitressing job when I get there and I’m going to take art classes at CUNY. I’m moving in with Stevie. I am totally joining the VSC. It is so on.