Hope you enjoy.
Secrets Don’t Make Friends
The car pulled up, headlights swinging past my window, alerting me of her arrival. Of course, she’s right on time. I grab my bag, bounce down the steps, slip on my shoes and say, “Good bye, I love you,” to my ignorant parents. They reply but I’m already out the door, leaving the screen swinging behind me. I hop into the passenger sear and we head down quiet suburban streets until we reach a dark cul-de-sac. The only movement is of a bluebird flitting away as the headlights reveal its hiding place. There is a shiny black car waiting for us in the darkest curve of the street; inside waits a tall, dark, strong man who steps out as we park behind our new form of transportation. He is built to intimidate but has no affect on me these days. He hands each of us a package and looks at me inquiringly until I nod, take the package and walk to the black car. I change into the clothes from my bag, toss it into the back and get behind the wheel. I open the package, set aside the gun and put the keys in the ignition. The man waits until the lights hit him as we pass and then steps into the car we leave behind, taking our mundane identity with him.
I drive through back streets headed east, toward the highway. I look to my right and see Amanda. I had forgotten about her until now. Of course, she’s not Amanda anymore; now she’s Calypso, master of hand-to-hand combat, concealment of deadly weapons and markswoman extraordinaire. She was my top pick for a field partner and after 3 years of espionage and swindling, we’ve become quite the team; I seduce the rich men, find out their secrets, and then drug them when I get the chance. Calypso comes in to help secure the asset – whatever it happens to be – takes out anyone who gets in our way and cleans up the messes we occasionally find ourselves in. Technically we’re both free agents but lately the CIA are the ones paying the big bucks. We’re who they call when anyone of interest passes through the Midwest with a valuable asset and they want the job handled quickly, quietly, and kept off the books.
“What are you thinking about, Reese?” she asks.
“Just how we got to where we are Calypso,” I reply. I’ve gotten so good at twisting the truth that I don’t even notice how vague my response is. “We’re here.”
I park with the Grand Street Cafe in view; our man sitting somewhere inside. Both the street in front and the restaurant itself are brightly lit, an inconvenience. Calypso and I share a look, each of us allowing the various ways this operation could play out run through our minds. I take the gun that has never felt quite right in my hands and hook it to the holster on my inner thigh, shimmy my toes into a pair of dangerous heels, and grab the clutch filled with the last items from the package – a ring filled with a sedative powder, a laser disguised as eyeliner, a phone that will act as a tracker, and lipstick.
“Remember the plan?” I ask.
“Of course I remember,” she scoffs.
“Then run me through it again.”
“You go in, find the guy, do what you do, get him to go to his hotel room, get the intel we need, knock him out with the sedative in your ring and then I come in and help you find the asset.”
“Right. And if there are bodyguards?”
“Take ‘em out. Really, I don’t see why we’re going over this. We’ve done it thousands of times before.”
“This target is different. He’s a big-shot. And young. I haven’t dealt with his type before. Usually they’re older drunks who are easy to persuade.”
“I’m sure this guy will be just as willing. You’re exactly his type.”
“I meant it’ll be hard to get the information we’ll need to find the asset.”
“Then we’ll just have to get embedded.”
I nodded, she was right. If I didn’t get the intel I needed tonight, I’d have to stay with him until I could get it.
“All right. Here goes Operation Diamond.” I say, steeling myself in preparation for the night ahead.
“No regrets 2010,” she jokes, quoting the catchphrase of our high-school-best-friend cover.
I smile tersely in response and step out of the car. Tossing my long hair over my neck, I adjust my slim-fitting deep purple dress and then stroll confidently toward the restaurant. When I open the door, I’m hit with a blast of sound and pleasantly warm air mixed with the sweet scents of alcohol, fried vegetables and steak. It smells, sounds, and looks like every other ritzy restaurant in existence; its layout is perhaps a little different, the art on the walls is from another collection, and the chef went to another culinary school but the people are the same. The men in tailored suits, the women in various colors of the same dress and the waiters all the same fake, smiling servants of the upper class. Tonight the room is full of white collar criminals – I notice several faces from the database. But there is only one that I want to see.
“Where would you like to sit, Madame?” asks one of the obsequious waiters.
“At the bar will do,” I reply without looking at him.
He leads me through the restaurant and I am able to surreptitiously scan the crowd for my target. I don’t see him anywhere. My mind starts to move at a hundred miles an hour as I begin to wonder if something has gone terribly wrong – if we’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time, or if we’ve been set up. The CIA has never liked free agents and maybe they’ve decided that they don’t want us on the loose anymore. I run my escape route through my head. I can still get out; it’s not time to panic.
I sit down at the bar and order a strawberry lemonade – my favorite – and turn my head to casually search the bar. It’s then that my eye catches the admiring glance of another. It’s a tall, handsome man in a purple shirt and tie, with his suit coat draped over the back of his chair. Him, to be exact; our man is here after all. I smile coquettishly in return to his subtle attentions. He grins and motions to the open barstool beside him. I bit my lower lip and then oblige. This is too easy, I think to myself.
“Hard day?” I ask, gesturing at his glass of vodka. No wonder this has been simple, he’s already tipsy. He chuckles attractively.
“You could say that,” he replies, showing his perfect teeth, “And you? You have a perfect day?”
I knew he was referencing the lack of alcohol in my chosen beverage.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I counter, “But it is getting better now.”
He looks at me with deep blue eyes rimmed with long, dark lashes. I can’t help but admire how attractive he is.
“Forgive my frankness but you are beautiful,” he says after a breathless moment.
I was right, this man is dangerous.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Conclusion(ish)
From all of this, I have learned one very important lesson; have fun. When you say yes to new things and walk out of your front door, you open yourself up to a world of new experiences. Life isn't boring and uneventful unless you make it boring and uneventful. And how can you have friends if you don't put yourself out there. Simply by asking my brother's girlfriend to help me with an assignment and falling on my face, I gained three new friends. You have to keep your heart and mind open or nothing can ever find its way in.
Summary of all that I have written and learned:
Hookah is worthless.
If you write down your dreams, you remember your subsequent dreams more vividly.
Don't fast unless you mean it and have a purpose.
Don't let your imagination get the best of you.
School dances are overrated unless you go single and with a group of friends.
I desperately want new experiences. Even my subconcious is telling me so.
Valentine's Day doesn't have to suck when you're single if you just let loose and have fun with some friends.
Writing is enjoyed by others the most when it is real, raw, and personal.
I've liked this blogging thing so far. I mean, I don't like the thought that any John Doe could stumble upon this and read what happens in my life but I have enjoyed writing down my experiences. I guess I should keep a journal. Ehh, we'll see.
Summary of all that I have written and learned:
Hookah is worthless.
If you write down your dreams, you remember your subsequent dreams more vividly.
Don't fast unless you mean it and have a purpose.
Don't let your imagination get the best of you.
School dances are overrated unless you go single and with a group of friends.
I desperately want new experiences. Even my subconcious is telling me so.
Valentine's Day doesn't have to suck when you're single if you just let loose and have fun with some friends.
Writing is enjoyed by others the most when it is real, raw, and personal.
I've liked this blogging thing so far. I mean, I don't like the thought that any John Doe could stumble upon this and read what happens in my life but I have enjoyed writing down my experiences. I guess I should keep a journal. Ehh, we'll see.
Experience 4: Valentine's Day
As a rule, I hate Valentine's Day. I don't like the cheap commercialization of Love and the blatant disregard for the true meaning of showing someone you care for them. Since when are roses and chocolate a declaration of Love? The answer: They're not. Now, I have nothing against the broader idea that lies behind all of the frills, commercials, and materialism - the importance of reminding someone of your love for them - but it's gone about all wrong. And, if you truly support the idea behind Valentine's day, shouldn't every day be Valentine's Day?
Anyway, I usually spend my Valentine's Days in forced ignorance of the day itself in a sort of roundabout way of consoling myself for my lack of a significant other, if you will. But this Valentine's Day, or at least the day before that continued into the early hours of Valentine's Day, was much better. Again, I spent this weekend with Grace, Noha, and Lara. We cause all sorts of mayhem when we get together.
We started out the evening meeting up with Lara and her two friends, Matt and Zach, at the pizza shop just across the way from Grace's apartment, Pizza 51. The atmosphere was great but I was really surprised when our orders were brought to our table. At Pizza 51, you order by the slice and I was expecting a normal slice of pizza. Oh, no. At Pizza 51, they bring you an entire pizza cut into the shape of a pizza slice. I'm not exaggerating. Well, maybe I am but that's not the point. It was well worth the $4 I spent; it was delicious and filled me up completely. At the restaurant we had a riveting conversation about music and bras and laughed heartily while enjoying our late supper.
Around 8:30 we decided to leave to go the concert Lara had heard about. Grace was going dancing later and since neither Noha nor I had any desire to go swinging, I drove separately so that I could take us back the the apartment after the concert. I followed Grace up Main Street toward the Power and Light District. I didn't know exactly where we were headed but when you reach the P&L District, you know it. People are everywhere, traffic is crazy, and it is lit up like a Christmas tree. We drove around for what felt like hours trying to find a parking spot that wouldn't cost us $10. But the Lara called - she had decided to spend that $10 - to tell us that the concert venue had reach capacity and they were no longer letting people in. It was a bummer but at this point I was just happy to be done driving. So Grace decided to go to the dance studio and Noha and I drove back to the apartment.
Noha and I chatted for a while, ate some chocolate cheesecake and were soon joined by Noha and the guys. They got their own cheesecake and we decided to watch Moulin Rouge. Both Matt and I were thoroughly enjoying it, mostly beacuse of all the music references, when we were interrupted by Allison (Grace's roommate) and her boyfriend coming home. It was an awkward moment because Grace hadn't gotten back yet and there we all were sitting in her apartment without her. But Grace walked in not 5 minutes later and we were rescued. She sent us all to the community room in the apartments to finish the movie so that Allison and her boyfriend could have some alone time. So we amused ourselves with the entertainments in the community room for a while and then settled down and finished our movie. It was really good. Then everyone said goodbye and Grace and I went to bed.
With these girls there is never a dull moment and from this experience I learned the value of having Drama-free friends. I was able to completely disconnect from everything in my life and just have fun. Also, it was a lesson in flexibility; all of our plans went awry but we still had a blast.
Anyway, I usually spend my Valentine's Days in forced ignorance of the day itself in a sort of roundabout way of consoling myself for my lack of a significant other, if you will. But this Valentine's Day, or at least the day before that continued into the early hours of Valentine's Day, was much better. Again, I spent this weekend with Grace, Noha, and Lara. We cause all sorts of mayhem when we get together.
We started out the evening meeting up with Lara and her two friends, Matt and Zach, at the pizza shop just across the way from Grace's apartment, Pizza 51. The atmosphere was great but I was really surprised when our orders were brought to our table. At Pizza 51, you order by the slice and I was expecting a normal slice of pizza. Oh, no. At Pizza 51, they bring you an entire pizza cut into the shape of a pizza slice. I'm not exaggerating. Well, maybe I am but that's not the point. It was well worth the $4 I spent; it was delicious and filled me up completely. At the restaurant we had a riveting conversation about music and bras and laughed heartily while enjoying our late supper.
Around 8:30 we decided to leave to go the concert Lara had heard about. Grace was going dancing later and since neither Noha nor I had any desire to go swinging, I drove separately so that I could take us back the the apartment after the concert. I followed Grace up Main Street toward the Power and Light District. I didn't know exactly where we were headed but when you reach the P&L District, you know it. People are everywhere, traffic is crazy, and it is lit up like a Christmas tree. We drove around for what felt like hours trying to find a parking spot that wouldn't cost us $10. But the Lara called - she had decided to spend that $10 - to tell us that the concert venue had reach capacity and they were no longer letting people in. It was a bummer but at this point I was just happy to be done driving. So Grace decided to go to the dance studio and Noha and I drove back to the apartment.
Noha and I chatted for a while, ate some chocolate cheesecake and were soon joined by Noha and the guys. They got their own cheesecake and we decided to watch Moulin Rouge. Both Matt and I were thoroughly enjoying it, mostly beacuse of all the music references, when we were interrupted by Allison (Grace's roommate) and her boyfriend coming home. It was an awkward moment because Grace hadn't gotten back yet and there we all were sitting in her apartment without her. But Grace walked in not 5 minutes later and we were rescued. She sent us all to the community room in the apartments to finish the movie so that Allison and her boyfriend could have some alone time. So we amused ourselves with the entertainments in the community room for a while and then settled down and finished our movie. It was really good. Then everyone said goodbye and Grace and I went to bed.
With these girls there is never a dull moment and from this experience I learned the value of having Drama-free friends. I was able to completely disconnect from everything in my life and just have fun. Also, it was a lesson in flexibility; all of our plans went awry but we still had a blast.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Dream 7: Vacation
This is a short dream because I had it during my nap today. It revealed a lot to me, some of which I already knew but hadn't really thought about too much.
I went to England. I had gotten a paid internship in London with a publishing company and had gladly accepted the opportunity. I got an apartment and started to get settled in. I walked through the streets of London to work every morning after grabbing my breakfast at the cafe next to my apartment and basked in the newness of my life. Everything was new: the smells, the tastes, the sounds, even the air I was breathing was new. And it was wonderful. I met all kinds of new people, both inside and out of my internship. I had new experiences. I felt new.
I woke up with an acute desire to apply for an internship in London. My reasons for this were varied but mostly I was overcome by the desire for all of that new. And I figured it out. My brain is letting me know what it is I want, maybe even what I need - a clean slate. A fresh beginning. A new place with new people to surround myself with. Sure it's terrifying and vulnerable but it's much better than being stifled and pigeon-holed for the rest of my life. Kansas City is wonderful and full of lots of lovely people but I need to get away, to find something else, experience something else. I need to do this so that I can finally start to live. I mean to really live. It's not that I hate Kansas or that I want to get away from my family or that I've made a mess of my life here and want a new one to try. It's something else entirely. It's a need to see the world, a need to do something. And my brain is just reminding me of that, so that I don't get caught up in doubts and do the easy thing. I need to do the hard thing this time and maybe, just maybe, I'll make a difference in this world.
I went to England. I had gotten a paid internship in London with a publishing company and had gladly accepted the opportunity. I got an apartment and started to get settled in. I walked through the streets of London to work every morning after grabbing my breakfast at the cafe next to my apartment and basked in the newness of my life. Everything was new: the smells, the tastes, the sounds, even the air I was breathing was new. And it was wonderful. I met all kinds of new people, both inside and out of my internship. I had new experiences. I felt new.
I woke up with an acute desire to apply for an internship in London. My reasons for this were varied but mostly I was overcome by the desire for all of that new. And I figured it out. My brain is letting me know what it is I want, maybe even what I need - a clean slate. A fresh beginning. A new place with new people to surround myself with. Sure it's terrifying and vulnerable but it's much better than being stifled and pigeon-holed for the rest of my life. Kansas City is wonderful and full of lots of lovely people but I need to get away, to find something else, experience something else. I need to do this so that I can finally start to live. I mean to really live. It's not that I hate Kansas or that I want to get away from my family or that I've made a mess of my life here and want a new one to try. It's something else entirely. It's a need to see the world, a need to do something. And my brain is just reminding me of that, so that I don't get caught up in doubts and do the easy thing. I need to do the hard thing this time and maybe, just maybe, I'll make a difference in this world.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Experience 3: WPA
This is overdue but I figure that since I can't turn it in until next week anyway, I might as well update it some more to get some better material.
Every dance is a new experience; they never go quite as you think they will. And this one certainly fits that bill.
A few of my mistakes:
I went to WPA with a boy I barely knew and a group of people that he doesn't belong to. Not a good combination.
I allowed the fact that my ex-best friend came in my group confuse me and throw me off my groove.
I thought too much.
The things I did well:
I compartmentalized the night into two sections: dancing and everything else. The dancing was great.
I danced my heart out.
All in all, I'm over it and very, very ready to move on from the whole high school dance experience. This is all very vague and I apologize for that but I'm just not feeling this topic anymore.
Every dance is a new experience; they never go quite as you think they will. And this one certainly fits that bill.
A few of my mistakes:
I went to WPA with a boy I barely knew and a group of people that he doesn't belong to. Not a good combination.
I allowed the fact that my ex-best friend came in my group confuse me and throw me off my groove.
I thought too much.
The things I did well:
I compartmentalized the night into two sections: dancing and everything else. The dancing was great.
I danced my heart out.
All in all, I'm over it and very, very ready to move on from the whole high school dance experience. This is all very vague and I apologize for that but I'm just not feeling this topic anymore.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Dream 6: Engagement Parties, Samurai Swords and Prostitution
Instead of reading le Petit Prince like a good, motivated student, I am going to blog about my dream from last night.
We're on the top floor of a very large skyscraper which is a suite that is currently filled with all sorts of sophisticated people. My friend (I don't know who it was, but we were really close, almost like sisters) is wearing the golden ballgown that I picked out for her. It's her engagement party and the building we're in is owned by her fiancee. He's a very elegant man. Food and champagne is everwhere and soft jazz music is wafting in from another room. I watch as my friend twirls around in her dress, looking as happy as humanly possible. She catches my eye, comes over to me and tells me how much she loves her dress and how wonderful my fashion sense is. I begin to say something but am cut short by the arrival of our entertainment. He is a Samurai swordsman who is going to teach us the art of the Samurai sword, specifically how to defend ourselves with one. He doesn't look like he has one drop of Asain blood in him, which makes me doubt his ability. But he is proficient enough and I learn a lot. The next thing I know, I'm in love with him and he with me. We're as cute as my friend and her fiancee, who actually happens to be the brother of the Samurai guy. But both of us get in a fight with our men and leave. We spend the night on the streets in seedy attire and after one night sleeping outside and thinking over the argument, we decide to go back to them. So we head back to the building, convince the elevator operator that we mean well and aren't going to fight with them again, return to the top floor suite, and embrace our men. Everyone apologizes and is happy again.
The end!
We're on the top floor of a very large skyscraper which is a suite that is currently filled with all sorts of sophisticated people. My friend (I don't know who it was, but we were really close, almost like sisters) is wearing the golden ballgown that I picked out for her. It's her engagement party and the building we're in is owned by her fiancee. He's a very elegant man. Food and champagne is everwhere and soft jazz music is wafting in from another room. I watch as my friend twirls around in her dress, looking as happy as humanly possible. She catches my eye, comes over to me and tells me how much she loves her dress and how wonderful my fashion sense is. I begin to say something but am cut short by the arrival of our entertainment. He is a Samurai swordsman who is going to teach us the art of the Samurai sword, specifically how to defend ourselves with one. He doesn't look like he has one drop of Asain blood in him, which makes me doubt his ability. But he is proficient enough and I learn a lot. The next thing I know, I'm in love with him and he with me. We're as cute as my friend and her fiancee, who actually happens to be the brother of the Samurai guy. But both of us get in a fight with our men and leave. We spend the night on the streets in seedy attire and after one night sleeping outside and thinking over the argument, we decide to go back to them. So we head back to the building, convince the elevator operator that we mean well and aren't going to fight with them again, return to the top floor suite, and embrace our men. Everyone apologizes and is happy again.
The end!
Monday, February 1, 2010
Not A Real Post
This isn't a real post. I've just needed to write about this so that I can get it out and move on with life.
I babysat tonight in the county of Waldo. Now if you've listened to the news at all, you've probably heard about the few incidents that have happened in Waldo. Incidents is a light word for it. There is a rapist loose in Waldo county. So, needless to say, this freaked me out quite a bit. And during my nervous musings tonight I have created a list for you of all of the things I want to have as soon as possible.
1. A husband.
Now, being only 18, this isn't going to happen any time soon so a bodyguard will suffice quite nicely. Preferably a very big, very strong bodyguard. Maybe with some spy training.
2. A dog.
Not just any dog, a dog that is trained to bark when it sees strangers. A really big, really strong dog. Spy training would be good too.
3. An alarm system.
This one is pretty self-explanatory. I want one that covers the doors and windows. All of them.
4. Mace.
Umm, hello. Necessity
5. Martial arts training. And some muscles.
Again, hellllooooo. Besides, knowing that I can kick anyone's ass without really trying is a comforting thought. And I think it would help me be more patient with people.
6. A less-vivid imagination.
Because you've read all of my dreams so far this week, I think you get the picture with my imagination. It is incredibly vivid. This is good in some situations but not in ones where it is conjuring up demons for you.
It's times like these that I wish I wasn't a woman. Being an attractive female, I am the exact kind of victim that psychopaths prey upon. It's an unnerving situation to be in. However, I was safe the whole time that I was babysitting and am now safe at home with three big, strong men to watch over me. Everything seems less scary in the comfort of your own home. But still. I hope he is caught as soon as possible.
I babysat tonight in the county of Waldo. Now if you've listened to the news at all, you've probably heard about the few incidents that have happened in Waldo. Incidents is a light word for it. There is a rapist loose in Waldo county. So, needless to say, this freaked me out quite a bit. And during my nervous musings tonight I have created a list for you of all of the things I want to have as soon as possible.
1. A husband.
Now, being only 18, this isn't going to happen any time soon so a bodyguard will suffice quite nicely. Preferably a very big, very strong bodyguard. Maybe with some spy training.
2. A dog.
Not just any dog, a dog that is trained to bark when it sees strangers. A really big, really strong dog. Spy training would be good too.
3. An alarm system.
This one is pretty self-explanatory. I want one that covers the doors and windows. All of them.
4. Mace.
Umm, hello. Necessity
5. Martial arts training. And some muscles.
Again, hellllooooo. Besides, knowing that I can kick anyone's ass without really trying is a comforting thought. And I think it would help me be more patient with people.
6. A less-vivid imagination.
Because you've read all of my dreams so far this week, I think you get the picture with my imagination. It is incredibly vivid. This is good in some situations but not in ones where it is conjuring up demons for you.
It's times like these that I wish I wasn't a woman. Being an attractive female, I am the exact kind of victim that psychopaths prey upon. It's an unnerving situation to be in. However, I was safe the whole time that I was babysitting and am now safe at home with three big, strong men to watch over me. Everything seems less scary in the comfort of your own home. But still. I hope he is caught as soon as possible.
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