Final Farewell

I guess Tyler knew but neglected to tell me, but Rubi showed up on our doorstep again last evening. I was in the middle of putting on a vegetable curry with coconut milk. As a native of India, she claims that only people from a certain region or state of India put coconut milk in their curries. She referred to them as "demons." I LOVE coconut milk, and out of courtesy, waited for her to leave before making a proper curry. (Everyone knows you can't make a curry without coconut milk!)

In any case, there she was in our kitchen. She returned my scissors and calculator that I had chalked up as gone forever. She acted as if nothing had happened, so I felt obligated to invite her to stay for dinner.

"Let's have some tea," she said, "Where's Tyler?"

Thankfully Tyler came downstairs and talked film shop with her while I got my curry on. Then she starting rambling about Raj again. No surprise. She stayed for about an hour and then said she was meeting some friends for dinner. It's odd that she claims to have all of these friends yet she had been staying at the Days Inn since she left the house. Curious, indeed.

When she got up to go I gave her a hug and wished her a safe journey.

"I hope you guys will still come visit me in India. And you have to come to my wedding!"

I've heard this one before. She seems to have a habit of making wedding plans before there has been a proposal.

"Please come! You can stay as long as you like."

Was that a dig?

"And when I come back in six months..." she continued, "I hope that you are both out of this house and living with your new boyfriends or husbands!"

"Yes," I said, "because that is our only purpose in life..."

Some things will never change.

Her last words? "I'll be back!"

I closed the door and turned to Tyler, who said, "She went out just as she came in!"

Yes, I thought, and I'm so glad it's over...

I think this story is closed. At least for now.

One for the Horses

What a sense of relief to have my home to myself again. After a good night's sleep without Slum's snoring or stomping to the bathroom I feel renewed. I was still a frenetic ball of angry energy yesterday though. The good news is, I took it out on someone who really deserved it.

There is a "trainer" at my barn who is notorious for abusing horses. I used to ride with him a little bit until I saw his barbaric methods in action. Since then he's been on my shit list.

Yesterday he was at the barn running the crap out of a client's horse, hitting it with the lunge whip even though the horse was moving as he'd asked. The owner of the horse doesn't seem to care, so there isn't much I can do. However, he does not board a horse at the stable so he has no right to take the arena from paying boarders.

I was standing with my horse waiting. He stopped running the horse, sat on the rail and began to instruct a rider in the back arena - another poor soul that doesn't know any better. He knew I was waiting to get in the arena.

"Paco, are you finished in the arena, because I need to use it," I said as nicely as I could muster.

"No. I'm going to ride the horse now."

"Well, you don't even board here, so you need to get out," I said a little less nicely.

"Don't try to push me around."

Oh no you didn't. He had no idea that I was a walking pressure cooker about to explode after a 7 days with Slum.

I walked closer to the arena and he stepped off the rail and faced the riding ring in the back.

"You know you are a piece of shit that has been banned from every barn in this town and except this one... "

He just kept staring at the back arena, but was no longer instructing. Then he walked towards his horse and tried to mount it but every time he tried to put his foot in the stirrup the horse would move.

"Whoa! Whoa!" But the horse kept moving.

"Yea, you're a really great trainer, Paco!" I antagonized. "He doesn't trust you!! I wouldn't trust you either if you chased me around with a whip for an hour!"

I decided I should quit while I was ahead and went to complain to management about him. The barn manager came out and told him something in Spanish. From the sound of it Paco wasn't very happy because he was raising his voice and yakking really fast in Spanish. God! I wish my Spanish was better!

But he got out. I was still a live wire, so I went for a short ride to calm my nerves.

Slum left me in a negative state, but at least I was able to dump it on a piece of crap horse abuser. It was long over due.

Hmm. What will today bring...

Snap! Goes the Camel's Back

Where to begin?

I'll begin with the last disturbing comment she made that sent me into panic mode. She figured it would work out great if I took her car until she moves back from India at the beginning of next year.

"And then if there is a room available here I can move back in!"

Over my dead body.

I found myself getting increasingly agitated by her presence, and the fact that I couldn't even use my own PC freely because it was allegedly "in the shop" was making me resent her even more. Totally ridiculous, I know, but she was stuck to it like glue. At least she was leaving the house for a few hours to go to the internet cafe.

She was gone when I got home around 4:30 yesterday afternoon. I pulled out my laptop to write and then I pulled up hulu.com to catch up on my T.V. shows. I got through one and a half when I heard her at the door. I scrambled to hide the computer before she discovered my covert usage.

I should add that she has driven me to drinking and smoking since her arrival. I lead a pretty quiet life these days, rarely partaking in booze or cigarettes, but this week I've been swimming in a bottle of wine nearly every night.

The second evening she was here - the night that I got super drunk - she was snapping photos of me all night. And as if that wasn't enough she had to snap 10 -12 morning after hangover shots. I'd seen many of these unflattering photos and tried to figure out how to delete them but it's a fancy pants camera with a hard to find delete feature.

But getting back to last night. I was in the kitchen with Tyler and Slum (yes, we're back to that) chatting. I was again using wine as a coping mechanism to get through yet another night of non-stop yak about guys. Slum mentioned that Tamiko had stopped by earlier that day when I was out of the house.

"Yea, I asked her how it was going with that other girl that her boyfriend was seeing," said Slum.

"YOU DUMBASS!" I blurted out.

I had confided in Slum the story about Tamiko's boyfriend having a brief fling with a 21 year old. He thought he'd found love at first sight. (Idiot) It was devastating to Tamiko, but she is in love with him and decided to let it go when he came to his senses and came back to her. I told Slum the story because we were talking about the mystery of why he won't just marry Tamiko so she can come live in the States again. Slum listened with wide eyes as it is her favorite genre.

"Why? Why? Why would you say that to her? That is so old and water under the bridge!! And now she knows I told you about it!"

"She TOLD me about it," she said defensively.

"No. I told you about it the other morning and you didn't know a thing about it," I insisted.

"No, dude, she told me when I lived here."

"Really? That's funny because it happened well before you moved in, and you didn't seem to know a thing about it the other morning."

If there is one thing I despise it is lying. And she does plenty of it. I've caught her in several white lies just this week, but this one took the cake.

Tyler looked at me as she made a dash for the door. "I'm out of here!"

I snatched my wine glass and headed for my room muttering about how much a hate liars.

I camped out on my balcony and got on the phone with an old friend, finished off the rest of the bottle, along with several cigarettes.

I knew that I could not possibly accept her offer of taking her car. I knew I didn't want any attachment to this toxic vampire that had holed up in my space. However, I knew that I'd been drinking and I shouldn't do anything rash.

When I went back inside she was sawing logs on her mattress. I had but one mission to accomplish. Find the camera and delete those hideous photos once and for all.

I walked around her a few times to make sure she didn't stir. Then a grabbed her purse and went into the bathroom to dismantle it. No camera. I went back to her bed to investigate further. Lo and behold she was sleeping with it right by her side. I carefully leaned over her and braced myself with one hand on the wall. I was able to snatch it up in one clean swoop. I scurried off into the bathroom like a squirrel with a nut.

I locked the door, sat on the floor and with drunken determination found the elusive delete feature. First I found the option that said "delete all." It crossed my mind momentarily, but I figured that was a lot of bad karma. I just wanted to get rid of the awful photos of me. I asked her several times to delete them, but she refused. So, one by one, I deleted about 40 photos of myself.

There were also some good ones so I popped out the chip and downloaded them to my PC. I was quite proud of myself. I put the camera back where I found it, and passed out in my bed.

I was in a blissful place. Maybe I was flying. It was a good dream until the clack, clack, clack of her shoes on my wood floor startled me out of my sleep. I had asked her not to walk around the room at night in shoes, but she would put them on just to go to the bathroom.

Argh!!

When she came back I barked at her, "Will you please not put on your shoes to go to the bathroom!"

"Ok. Sorry..."

We'd been through this before. I was wide awake and pissed. Then, like Reagan from the Exorcist I sat straight up in bed and started spewing.

"Rubi - I can't do this for another week. I need my space back."

"Okay. I'll leave tomorrow," she said as if she was not surprised.

We both tossed and turned for sometime and then I heard her shuffling things around in the dark.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm packing."

"Now??"

"Yea, I'm gonna go. I can't sleep."

"It is two o'clock in the morning. People are sleeping. You can't go schlepping your suitcase down the stairs," I said in a less than compassionate tone.

"I don't want to stay where I'm not welcome."

"Oh my God! It is all about YOU isn't it? This is exactly why you've worn out your welcome here. You are SO inconsiderate!"

"Fine. I'll come back tomorrow morning for my suitcase."

I didn't answer. It was two in the morning. Where the hell was she going to go? I decided I didn't care. She left and shortly after I drifted off into a pleasant slumber.

She returned around 8:30 for her suitcase. She rang the bell and Tyler let her in. When she came into my room I felt like I should say something.

"Rubi, I never should have agreed to let you stay here for so long. I'm a very private person, and..."

"You don't need to give me excuses. It's okay."

She was right. Why should I make excuses? She is a bad house guest that doesn't know when it's time to go.

It was such a relief. The thought of 7 more days was more than I could take. Still, there is lingering angst. It may take a day or two for me to find my balance again.

What was I thinking? Actually, the first 4 days were fine. We actually had fun. If she'd had the common sense to go stay on another friend's floor for a few nights it probably wouldn't have come to this.

Que sera.

Three more days...

I wish I could say I only have three more days of sharing my space, but that is not the case. I walked into a trap this morning. A dirty, tricky little trap. I should have seen it coming.

I woke up bleary eyed and PMS addled to realize that it was not, in fact, all a bad dream. There she was - sleeping on my floor for the 7th morning in a row. While we've made peace and I don't hate her - it is difficult to share a room with anyone I'm not having sex with, and even then, it is a challenge for me.

But what can I do? She's so clingy and needy. I guess I kind of feel sorry for her. Besides, I thought, she's due to leave on the 14th. That's just around the corner.

She must have sensed my foul mood and attempted to cheer me up.

"You know, girls like us really need to have good sex from guys all the time. Then we would be happy and nice."

Girls like us? I could not bring myself to respond to such an asinine comment, so I got up to make coffee. Once I had a nice, hot cup of java in my crabby little hands, I crawled back in bed with it and listened to her prattle on about men, and sex, and then... her car.

She's been storing it someplace in San Francisco and planned to drive it back to deposit it before departure for India.

You should just leave it with me," I said, half joking.

"Really?"

"Sure, I could sort of lease it from you for a very small amount."

She went nuts over the idea saying that the current arrangement in SF was not ideal and that she'd feel better if someone was using it.

A part of me thought it was a great idea. I mean, it can get super cold on the back of a Vespa sometimes, and it does limit my mobility in the evening hours. But a part of me felt a string being attached to my soul.

"I'll call my insurance company today and see how much it will be to add you as a driver. This is so great!" she squealed. "Now, I don't have to leave on the 14th to go to San Francisco. I can stay here with you until the 17th!"

Fuck!!!!

Ghosts

I'm taking refuge in a local Starbucks as I type. As I suspected, things are getting a little too close for comfort. And, she has driven me to lying. I despise lying and I rarely ever even tell the whitest of lies, but she has been dominating my PC non-stop since she arrived, obsessively checking email and Facebook for signs of Raj 2, who frankly seems to be a replica of Raj 1. Both are imaginary boyfriends as far as I can tell.

So, back to the lying. I told her my PC crashed (knock on wood) and that I had to put it in the shop. That means it's living in my Vespa and I have to go to a coffee shop to use it. It's a nice break for me. Only 5 more days to go now. I feel a little bad about it, but my laptop is very personal to me. I didn't mind her checking her email, but when she's on it for hours without my supervision, it puts me a little uptight. What if she went into my internet history and found this blog??

It hasn't been all bad, of course. In fact, we've had quite a lot of fun. The evening after our shopping day we ended up drinking the night away. Well, actually, I drank the night away. Tyler had a couple of glasses of wine, and Rubi got a contact high.

The three of us were sitting on Rubi's mattress on my bedroom floor having a heated debate about, what else, why Rubi has been unable to lasso a man, when we heard what sounded like a herd of chatty elephants coming up the stairs. We all stopped talking and raised our eyebrows in WTF? There was a knock on my door.

I opened the door to see Tamiko, a past roommate, and her boyfriend standing there. I was drunk and shocked, feeling as if I had crossed into some strange altered reality, so I grabbed her and hugged her.

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?"

"It's a surprise!" she said with a big smile and Japanese accent.

Tamiko had moved back to Japan about a year ago. We've maintained contact via email since she left her cat, Ode, with me to babysit until her boyfriend makes an honest woman of her so she can move back to the States.

"I didn't know you were coming!" I screeched, my head still swimming in too much wine and confusion.

"Nobody knew," she said. "It's a surprise!"

Obviously.

She and her boyfriend visited with her cat for a while, and then they split as quickly as they'd arrived. Perhaps the three ring circus they'd stumbled into scared them away.

What are the chances of two past roommates, both living in faraway lands, to descend on the doorstep of the old house at the same time, without ever talking to each other? I was having a twilight moment for sure, with or without copious amounts of wine. It was as if the house was calling the ghosts of roommates past home. If Mariana had shown up at door I would have truly lost my mind.

More to come... Stay tuned.

She's baaaaack

The last few days have been a surreal blur. My adventure began on Wednesday evening when Rubi (a.k.a. Slum) showed up on my doorstep with her suitcase. She asked if she could stay with us for a "few days" while she was in town taking care of tax stuff. Apparently, to her, a few days is actually 2 weeks. If we had an extra bedroom it would be no big deal, but she's sleeping on my floor!

Determined to make the best of it, I invited her along on the previously arranged plans I had for the evening. My girlfriend, CeCe, was to arrive with a bottle of wine to add to the raw food meal I was preparing. Rubi arrived first.

I opened the door and we greeted each other with huge smiles and a big hug which still seems so odd in light of all that happened in the past. I was genuinely happy to see her, and she brought me a beautiful silk scarf from India.

When CeCe arrived she popped open the wine and we had a toast to Rubi's homecoming. Then CeCe helped me finish chopping the veggies for the raw veggie spring rolls to be served. Rubi and Tyler sat at the table dipping pita bread into homemade garlic hummus, chatting and catching up. I noticed Rubi watching me and CeCe.

"How do you guys know each other?" Rubi asked.

"We used to work together," said CeCe.

"Yes, we worked together at at law firm another life time ago..." I added.

"Has she ever threatened to break your fingers?" Rubi asked facetiously.

"No," said CeCe, "Did she threaten to break yours?" As if she didn't know the story of my PMS rage that drove me to threatening bodily harm on a roomie that was a daily thorn in my ass.

"Yes, she threatened me..." said Rubi.

"What did you do to her?" CeCe asked.

She paused and thought for a moment. "Her Dishes."

At that we all burst into laughter. It wasn't funny at the time, but it has brought a lot of laughter in retrospect. I believe it went something like this - "If you put your filthy paws on my dishes again I'm going to break your f***ing fingers!"

Once we sat down to eat the "guy talk" started. Rubi's entire life and existence revolves around chasing guys. After she talked incessantly through the entire meal about the new Raj, or "Raj 2," I was beginning to regret the whole visit. She claimed that she had gone to India to make a film, but in truth it was to chase "Raj 1." Now here she was going on, and on, and on, about a new Raj. Tiring. Really tiring.

However, I know that I will be asking the same favor of her later this year when I go to India, so I made the decision that I will make the best of it. Now is the time to accept what is and practice my patience. Practice. Practice. Practice!

Besides, so far, so good. She got out of bed a the crack of dawn, still feeling the jet lag. I got up not much later because it's tough for me to go back to sleep after I've been awakened by an Indian woman shuffling around my room in the dark. I had the brilliant idea to make pancakes. Yum! Pancakes! It was truly selfish motives that got me out of bed. To my surprise she'd left the house. I made pancakes anyway. Blueberry. So good.

A few hours later she returned. She'd gone to the gym for a swim and showered there. This, I thought, was a good thing.

We had the whole day ahead of us.

"What should we do?" I asked.

We discussed seeing a movie but then agreed that it might be better to wait for a rainy day over the weekend.

"Let's just get in the car and go," I finally said.

She was waiting for me at the front door. As I started to descend the stairs I heard her say "Slumdog..." My heart sank. Had I left my PC open to the blog? Quickly I realized that she'd opened my Netflix mail. I had just ordered Slumdog Millionaire, which I have not seen yet.

We ended up at Vroman's bookstore in Pasadena. I can spend hours in that store, but she ended up in the attached coffee shop writing in her journal. I reunited with her after about an hour of perusing the store and finding a few bargain buys.

One of the items was a writing kit. A game to help spur creativity. It certainly spurred it in her.

"Dude! We should start writing a screenplay together while I'm here! Yes! Let's sit down and brainstorm. We'll come up with 50 ideas, then pare it down to just two."

"Sure. Yea. That would be fun." Although, admittedly, I'm not as excited about screen writing as she is.

We left the book store and had Indian food for lunch at Akbar in Old Towne Pasadena, and then spent the rest of the afternoon shopping in all the stores on Colorado. The most fun part was trying out cook's knives at Sur la table. I think the idea of me wielding a sharp knife put her on edge a little bit.

She bought a pair of Dolce & Gabana sunglasses, and I bought two cheap t-shirts and sunglasses at H&M. It was a fun and girlie afternoon. Little did we know we had a pretty exciting evening ahead.

To be continued...

Horror in the kitchen

Horrified is the only word that can sum it up. I really didn't want to go into the kitchen because I could hear all the commotion. But... my desire for chocolate soymilk won the battle.

As I walked into the kitchen I saw Francis in her gym clothes making herself some dinner, and Grant sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of Seagram's and Seven Up, watching American Idol.

Grant is a 37 year old male.

"Drinking on a Tuesday night?" I inquired.

"Well [some female pop-star] is on tonight, and if I don't have a drink I think I'll explode! I don't normally watch American Idol, but I looooove her!."

"Who?" I needed a repeat, but I still can't remember.

"You don't know who she is??" He said, aghast, and then started to belt out one of her songs - which, by the way, sounds like some teeny bopper pop crap, like Britney Spears or something.

"Um... no." I said.

"Get out! You don't know that song?? Get out!"

Oh, I so wanted to get out.

"I'm not into pop music." Lameass.

"C'mon!"

"Dude - I don't have a radio. I'm not a part of pop culture." Because I have much better taste than that, Mr. Pabst Blue Ribbon drinkin, t.v. dinner eatin, baseball hat wearin, mini truck drivin, baboon.

To which he replied, "C'mon! You're a... SUBCULTURE!"

I grabbed my soymilk and got the F out of there before he started singing again. It was bad enough that every time she came onto the screen he had to screech "Oh, I love you!" like a pubescent 13 year old.

Damn chocolate soymilk...