my icon as she fades on the streets of ny

my guide on how to do it with grace

 

Meeting Astrid*

You know those days when you wake up and you just feel different? And so you decide that, instead of taking the usual route to places, you decide to do something different. You decide to ignite that funny little tick; that heady, dizzy feeling as if you may faint. 

And you just take the turn.

That’s exactly what happened. How it happened. Just a simple— was it a hesitation? A glance in the rearview— some creepy van behind me I wanted to get away from, yes—it was the van.

So, anyway, I noticed a shop I’ve never seen with group of others and I decided to go there on a whim just because it was written in French; so hard to find culture nowadays. 

It was a cool boutique kind of shop. A lot of beautiful clothes hand picked by the owner. Then I noticed there was a make up counter with lipsticks all on display. 

It was the lipsticks that drew my attention. I needed a new shade —or, something in a coral or terra cotta tone that won’t clash with my red hair and it’s when we both reached for the same color.

It was weird—in that, am I dreaming fucked up way. The lipstick went flying 

We were both staring at each other. I guess what struck me was that she was wearing the exact Lily Pulitzer skirt that I have had in my eBay watch for over three years. I just stared. I might have drooled but we clearly did not wear the same size. Just had the same taste. 

But no, I guess I hadn’t noticed it at first. I was too busy noting the turquoise print shades with apricot at first as it’s so rare and hard to find that I just stood back not even aware how the shop keeper was looking at us. 

“Wow!” the woman in the Pulitzer said as she went to pick up the lipstick that dropped 

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry!!” I said it was —like, stupid brain moment—it’s been that kind of day; so, in delayed reaction but—no, she was staring at me and it was starting to feel weird. You know?

“Say that again!” the Pulitzer lady now said and I guess it was the accent that had me start to look at her more closely 

but I was confused so I just said, 

“What?” 

It was really only when the shop keeper laughed snd said,

“I thought I was seeing double—are you guys twins?—I mean you’re sisters obviously!”

I got that weird taste in my mouth. I felt a bit sick because I didn’t really look at her face until she said this. 

“Say something else!” she said to me and …. then I realized I was like some kind of novelty. How fucking rude. She had such a stuck up accent. That awful kind they used to satirize on AbFab and I got flashbacks looking now at the skirt ….I didn’t like her at all —but, ok; with thirty or forty more pounds on me, i guess we could pass for sisters. But really, I felt so insulted. I just wanted to leave at thst point, so I think I said something like 

“I was just browsing,” and was walking towards the door 

“No, wait— look—you must see this…. this can’t be a coincidence —we even have the same Coach bag!” she said now —and all with that horrible stuck-up accent that made me want to kick her; I really just wanted to get away from her

“Look at this picture!” 

she actually grabbed me. Like with her fingers. Pulled me back from the direction I was going. Do people actually do this? No, just to me 

but it wasn’t that she has the same purse in the picture thst caught my attention, but that, in the picture, she was sitting on a bed that had the exact headboard I have also been dreaming of forever. This is what stopped me….fucking bitch ….

I was so angry looking at the picture and noticing the pillows and the bedsheets and —it was like cruel fucking torture to see her in the picture ….

“That’s great,” I think I said 

“What size are you?” she asked me walking around me and looking me up and down 

Isn’t that a personal question? I mean, some people just push the limit. I started to leave and I shoved her slightly this time as she tried to stop me. I mean—yes, there’s something freaky about meeting your double who is a chunkier version of you and has a stuck-up English accent and seemed like someone who never knew a moment of hunger 

I was as far as my car with her still following behind me when she, in a loud commanding tone called out:

“Wait!!!”

it was inevitable; she caught up with me as I was getting into my car —and then she asked me the craziest thing,

“would you consider doing a favor for me? Nothing sordid or anything —I promise; it’s for work! It’s just I really think this could work out perfect for….” it was that she said video that started to stress me out because I have studied voice-over and the jobs that go around are so boring (instructions on how to install programs into your Alexa) or so medically dreary (those tv ads you throw your coffee cup at) that I won’t even open the emails anymore. I still wished she’d leave me alone —but then something funny happened 

This bright blue Audi pulled up and parked behind me and —out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy get out. As he was walking towards me I noticed he was wearing this navy blue perfectly tailored suit; the kind that looks shiny in the sun; and he had this perfectly groomed hair. He looked at me and waved and smiled! It was this big, bright, excited, joyous smile and, in a flash, I realized his error!

shit —and then, he was running towards me —not her, you know? And saying her name!!!

“Astrid!!! You look great!!!! You lost so much weight!!!!”

these weird things only happen to me 

*yes, this is fiction 

Our more essential museum of history

Our most difficult experiences bring out the best and worst in us. The length of the duration of the difficulty/ies and the choices in which we adapt —during—

becomes the frame; gilded or battered

that encapsulates 

the sum total of our meaning 

while of flesh 

perhaps to decide to own the sum, while in reflection, buffs the luster and oils away the soil 

is it a picture frame? or the backbone and shoulders of a soul that either buckled or kept its integrity 

which do you want hung in the portrait gallery?

it is up to the individual to rise above their own muck. bitterness is really like chewing off your own leg. but at any time, you can decide which landscape is your road ahead 

often I wish I never read some things I have in the news

….a sense of centering

the Moonstone 

 it was written somewhere I read ti put it on the right. but I got a wild reaction to the right. it was like a magnetic field overload. Sensed I should switch. Also read my zodiac sign wasn’t right for this stone—but, I disagree as past connections pull me to this stone/chrystal. Our teachers are those that challenge I suppose is my war cry. So far my experiment is yielding a lot