Log Line: Super cute Kaz Miles moves to the bustling city of Edmonton with NOTHING but dreams. No impressive work history, not enough money, no place to stay at… neither… brains for love and relationships! To make her idiosyncrasies even worse, she meets the beautiful, shrewd, principled — and — ‘super straight’ Jane Randall who becomes her roommate, self-proclaimed mentor, love guiding light, and… FANTASY!
Warning: Crude Humor/Language
So what is it that really means to me? Something that’s worth fighting for. Something that every time I would think of life, that’s exactly what it’s all about. Something that defines who I am… as an authentic person, not just another heart and mind.
What’s funny? I can be serious too. I’m not thinking of what to post on my social media just to grab attention. I’m thinking of what my life would look like in 5 or 10 years time, and how much I have grown. What’s my purpose? Where would I be? Who would I end up with?
Damn it. There I am again, desperate for love. Eliminate that. No. It’s part of it. Sorry, I can’t be a hypocrite anymore. Of course, it’s important to me. No. Not yet. It shouldn’t be my priority.
Oh, Jane. If only I could have you.
Aw, shut up! Just forget about her. HER!!! She’s revolting. She’s not a part of my plans. She’s just a fantasy. Now let’s go back to the most difficult question of all time. What is it that really means to me?
I am clueless.
As I slump my debilitating butt onto the living room couch after unloading and putting all my things away into their respective spots, the door squeaks open. She’s back home. With a company.
And… Oh la la… My heart is suddenly corrupted by such an angelic smile. What an awesome refreshment. Whew. But no. I can’t get carried away anymore. That’s the problem with me. It’s so easy for me to fall in love with brunettes who present me with fetching smiles. Stop smiling, goddammit!
“Oh, you’re done with your stuff already?” Jane says.
“Yeah.” I rise from the couch. My landlady has suddenly depleted off my memory as my eyes are now captured by the new object of my frail heart. I know. It’s lame. But here I am again, a dopey straight-looking gay chick that I have always been. “Hi.”
“Kaz, this is Serene,” Jane says. “Serene, my roommate, Kaz.”
“Hello, Kaz,” Serene says, smiling.
“How do you spell out your name, by the way?” Yes, I’m being an idiot for asking. “Like, s-e-r-e-n-e?”
“You got it,” Serene giggles. “Finally, somebody with a sensible mind got my name right!”
Jane frowns. “Yeah. And she’s gay, too.”
“Jane!” Serene and I bellow in chorus.
“What’s the matter with you?” Serene reprimands her.
“Yes, I’m gay, Serene!” I say, exasperated by Jane’s behavior. “And does it matter to you, though?”
“Oh, please, Kaz,” Jane bombards back. “I didn’t spill the beans to make you look bad, okay? Serene is bi and single. I’m just trying to spread some happiness around here. Jesus. Now I feel like everything that I’ve eaten is gushing around my intestines in an eccentric collision.”
Serene and I fall in awkward silence. Perhaps, embarrassed that we have judged her instantly.
“At least, I’ve announced ‘it’ in your presence, not behind your back,” Jane continues, eyeing me.
“Oh, and I’m supposed to thank you for that?” I say.
“What’s your problem, Kaz?” Jane chuckles, amused… Like in a conscious teasing zone… kind of amused… “I’m just introducing you to somebody else so I wouldn’t catch us both in your luminous pupils anymore!”
“Oh my God, Jane,” Serene reacts disgustingly.
“That’s it,” I say. Her attitude makes me wanna vomit now. For real! “I can’t stand talking to you anymore.”
“You’re sick,” Serene blazes at Jane. “I’m out of here.” And she stomps out of the door.
“How could you humiliate me like that?” And another war hurls on.
“You wanna date her?” Jane smirks. “She’s really pretty, huh?”
“Don’t you dare change the goddamn hullabaloo now!” I say.
“So you’re saying we still need to debate over this until your throat hurts.”
“Until you apologize!”
“There’s nothing to apologize. I was only being honest. And your crack knows it.”
“Jane, there’s absolutely nothing to like about you. So stop dreaming.”
“You and I. In your luminous pupils. Such stirring action. Huh!”
“Oh, this is becoming so disturbing. I’ll look for a new place by the end of the month then.”
“Are you still coming in for the interview though?”
“After all that? Forget it.”
“Just come in for the interview, all right?”
“Why do you make my life so miserable anyway?”
“I’ve got you a place to call home, and I’m offering you a good job. The only thing that gets in the way is you can’t admit the fact that there’s this… stirring action dancing around in your luminous pupils each time you look at me.”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“I don’t have to know anymore because I’ve already known since the first meeting.”
“Fine,” I give up. “I like you. I fantasize about you. And I’m hoping for something more. But I hate you so much that even my belly button melts all the down into my stomach. Now we’re done?” I wanna SCREAM so badly and pull her hair out of rage.
“Gladly,” she says.
“You promise me we’re not gonna talk about it ever again?”
“Serene works part-time at the bookstore as well.”
“We’re not talking about Serene, Jane! We’re talking about our situation!”
“Our situation was only crawling in your head, which I had only been articulating out loud because you were still caved up.”
“So does that mean the situation is now gone?”
“Maybe. Not until you free me from it entirely though.”
“So what do you want me to do with it, Jane? You want me gone right now? I’ll go.”
“To where? You can’t even afford anything anymore. Have you got new panties there? I’ll give you some.”
“I hate you,” I say. “You’re despicable.”
She laughs. “Kaz, come on now. I’ve only been messing around with you, okay? Don’t take it seriously.”
“You’ve been humiliating me. You’ve just humiliated me in front of your friend, goddammit.”
“Look, I’m a freak-out, all right? I know that… But I don’t know… I don’t know… For some reason… I love fooling around with you though. And I’m sorry if you find it offensive, but I… Honestly, I don’t know. It’s… It’s actually kind of new to me in a way, but… uh… Anyways, all I know is… it’s just… refreshingly comfortable… I mean, me, being ‘this’ bitchy around you and whatnot… You would know once I get serious about things for sure.”
“You’re weird. That, I know for sure.”
“Oh, you’re a cutie.”
Oh God. Please don’t tell me I’ve got my one tiny miracle just now?
“So…,” she says, “are we still on for the interview tomorrow or what?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “I guess.”
“Who wrote ‘To The Lighthouse’?”
“Guy De Maupassant.”
“Gustave Flaubert’s famous work.”
“Madame Bovary. Wait. Are you interviewing me already?”
“Nope. Just checking. But I must say, you got the goods though,” she says. “New York Times Best-Selling fiction author of today?”
I’m ready to pass out now. “I… I have no idea…”
“The goods aren’t that impressive after all,” she says.
“Well, I’m sorry ‘cause my goods still happen to stick around from Shakespeare to Harper Lee, all right?”
“This is the present, Kaz. The only ones who really care about your goods are the English Literature kids. We’re going for mainstream here. Now how would you deliver those goods, huh?”
“I thought this wasn’t the interview yet.”
“Nope. Not yet. However, I already have a clue as to how the interview would turn out tomorrow, so…”
“So that means, I don’t stand the chance at all.”
“I did not say that.”
“But you’ve just said that you’ve already got the clue as to how the interview would turn out.”
“Yes, but I’m not literally interviewing you yet.”
“Then what the hell was that all about you checking if I got the mainstream goods or not?”
“Just show up for the interview, okay?”
“I cannot believe all this act!”
“All these crazy things that you pull on me! I don’t know which one to believe anymore!”
“I’m not pulling any act on you. It’s just a test.”
“A test is just a one-syllable word for pulling an act!”
“Pulling an act means messing around with you. But once I present you with some serious kicks, trust me, honey, I’m for real.”
“You are unbelievable. I’m going to bed… By the way…”
Brain freeze! “What?”
“That’s the WiFi’s username,” she says. “Wannaslidein. One word. Password, pinkitup. One word as well.”
The panic punch is on! “H-how did you… What the… Oh. My. God.”
“Oh, trust me, it freaks me out, too. And it’s not a full moon witchery kind of thing. It just whoops in once the comfort portal is already wide open, so…”
“You’re scaring the hell out of me now.”
“I’m scaring the hell out of me now.”
Social media, let me out… Let me out… Let me out…! People would not be interested in reading my bellyaching thoughts anyway. The only ones who would bother to click ‘like’ on my posts would be my cousins. Ugh. Doesn’t anybody care anymore!
Browse… Browse… Just keep on passively browsing… Nothing interesting… Now research. Who are the best-selling authors of today?
Now pray for some inspiration for that book. Pray… Go on… Don’t give up…
Perhaps, an old romantic comedy film would cure the block. Wait. Time check, it’s almost supper time. Brain check… A responsible 23-year-old woman must do her groceries. I remember picking up goodies with my ex, and I would always tell her, ‘Damn, I can take a good nap while you decide whether or not that canned good is safe to reside in our anatomy program…’ But now I can just grab whatever I need, and I’m done in 10 minutes. One of the fun perks of being single. Heehaw!
I don’t have a sense of direction, but I know there’s gotta be a grocery store around here close by. After an irksome tour, I have found one on 109th street. As soon as I prance inside, I grab a basket right away, and I swear to God, I can hear Beethoven’s ‘Ode To Joy’ tingling in my head.
Vegetables. I can have them all as I am vegetarian. Oh, pads… Yes, that’s also one of the nightmares of being a woman. Deodorant… Ugh. It always reminds me of my prom date who bombed off such shamelessly sour smell, breezing from her armpits that hit me with a migraine all night long. Toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss… Oral hygiene is very important, especially when you’re a gay chick. Body lotion… ‘cause dry skin could electrocute me. Shampoo and Conditioner… It’s all about how smooth, silky, and well-groomed my hair is as it makes my personality shine through. Body wash… That seductive smell that makes me feel beautiful. And of course, feminine wash. I’m two-way. I need to make my partner believe that she’s on for a strawberry dessert. Very important…
What am I doing? Why is my mind so preoccupied with sex? I need to break off from that bull. It’s demoralizing me. Not helping.
That’s it. That’s my grocery shopping. I’m a minimalist. I just snag off whatever is necessary for my comfort. Suck me up, chips… and chocolates… and cookies…!
On my way back home, I run into…
“Kaz!” Serene blasts at me, like she has just seen an old friend from high school.
“Hey, Serene.” I am carrying two plastic bags full of my personal pride, so yeah, I can’t wait to get home already.
“Need help with those?”
“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” she says. “Let me have one of those.”
“Okay. Thanks.” And I hand over one of my grocery bags to her, then off we go.
She takes a peek into it. “These are all veggies. Are you vegetarian?”
“But you eat fish and dairy products though?”
“Sometimes, I do.”
“What’s with straight lesbians being vegetarians anyway?”
“I don’t know. All I know is when I was like, 5 or 6 maybe, my grandfather took me to a slaughter house, and I saw how these mean people murder cows and pigs…”
“I don’t wanna listen to that,” she quickly interrupts, nauseated. “So… tough living with Jane, huh?”
“We’ve only known each other since late this morning,” I say, “and my cardiovascular system is already falling apart.”
“Tell me about it,” she giggles. “She’s that brutally honest. It tees you off sometimes, but…”
“Sometimes? All the time!” I say. “My name is not even Ahuva, for crying out loud, but she picks on me in that sense. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, but Kaz, you gotta understand, she doesn’t do it to everyone,” she professes. “Not even to all of our friends. She only does it to those whom she feels most comfortable being with. She did it to me at one point, but then… all of a sudden, it just died off, like… she wouldn’t even give a crap about me anymore. And she’s so kindhearted, y’know? She’s been helping a lot of people. And in fact, since she has become the manager of the bookstore, she has started this literacy program. I volunteer too, every other Sunday, so… please… give her a chance, okay?”
I did not just hear that! No! I can’t fall in love with Jane a lot more than I should! I must whip myself off from this fantasy… like… right now! “That’s nice to hear.” And as soon as we reach the back door of the apartment building… “Um… Serene, would you go for coffee with me tomorrow?”
“Sure. What time?”
“After my interview. Jane has asked me to apply for a position at the bookstore, so…”
“And she’s still gonna interview you?” she laughs.
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s what she said.”
“I’m sure you’ve already got it. Anyway, what time is your interview?”
“Okay. I’m off tomorrow. I’ll meet you up at the bookstore then.”
Once I haste inside our suite, I can feel my heartbeat thumping so fast. “Okay, Serene, I like you… But I wanna like you more… The same way that I like… the person who pesters me all the time…”
And she resurfaces from her room. “What the hell was that all about?”
Shoot me. She can still hear my thoughts from all the way over here? “What the hell was what?”
“You just banged the goddamn door!” she says.
“I did?” I get oblivious to my actions when I pay attention to my provoking mind. “Sorry.”
She checks out my groceries. “Vegetarian. Of course. You’re a straight lesbian. You gotta be.”
“Cut the crap, Jane. Go back to bed.”
“Can you cook?”
“A little bit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you mean what’s that supposed to mean?”
“There are only two firm answers in the world that the English language has invented… Yes and no! You don’t say, ‘a little bit’. There is no ‘a little bit’ answer to a question, Kaz.”
“Of course, there is. ‘A little bit’ means, yes, I can, but not much. I can make stir fries, salads, and soups, but I can’t do main courses. That’s what ‘a little bit’ means.”
“So you can’t cook then.”
“I’ve already told you. I can, ‘a little bit’.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, ‘a little bit’ is my answer. Deal with it.”
“You can’t cook.”
“Are we gonna argue over my cooking ability now?”
“If you can’t make a main course, then you can’t cook. That, to me, is the answer.”
“Fine! I can’t cook! Happy?”
“Why do you have to yell all the time for?”
“Because you’re pissing me off!”
“I’m not pissing you off. You’ve got that silent killer in you.”
“What is that?”
“Hypertension. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”
“That I got a silent killer in me?”
“The exact term for silent killer.”
“Well, excuse me. I haven’t gotten to that part on Wikipedia yet.”
“It’s a common fact. How much of a voracious reader are you anyway?”
“Now you’re questioning my reading habits!”
“Sorry, but you gotta learn something beyond Shakespeare’s time, honey.”
“Jane, would you happen to know a damned good therapist? Like, seriously!”
It cracks her up. “I so love irritating you!”
I poke her in the shoulder. “You’re giving me a panic attack!”