Homecoming

The first thing I noticed was that everybody was heavier set than I remembered them. Many still wore the exact same clothes that I saw them wear in undergrad, and everybody still looked great, but I couldn't figure out why it seemed different.

It wasn't for almost a day that I remembered my new home's obsession with physical appearance: the year-round pool parties, how everybody talks about running or swimming or doing something. I remembered feeling pressure to eat and look differently, in a way I never had before I moved out there.

I noticed that one person's belt didn't match his pants. I can't remember ever thinking about that before.

"So when are you moving back?" Krill asked.

"Oh," I laughed, "not anytime soon, the toys are so good! I'm getting to do all the things I always wanted to do, really change the world you know?"

***

Vex's company has a whole lab now, and pays $100 a month for rent there including utilities. We'd pay about 2.5K for about the same space for the Torii. He's walking around showing me his new projects.

"I just can't come back here, I want to, but there are so many good toys in my new home, I'm really getting to change things..."

Vex looks up, puzzled, and I realize my comment was unsolicited.

"Who are you trying to convince?"

***

The restaurant two blocks from campus will serve you a mixed drink in a beach bucket to share among friends. I'd never done it because I was always broke in college. Turns out it cost $13. We did a loop through the other restaurants in the area getting their equivalent drinks and splitting them about 5 ways: one in a fancy glass, another in a fishbowl. None of them cost more than the bucket. I would have paid for all three but I thought it would be rude to show how different the standard of living was in my new home.

***

A huge technological revolution will happen here: the next silicon valley. The economy is heading for a crash, and these are the people who feel the pressure, and who will rise from the ashes first. I am so sure of these things that I would be comfortable betting everything on them.

"This new home is soft, I feel like that's been good for you."

Circles is right of course. Kalei has commented on it in her own way too, and Vex complimented me on how much easier I was to speak with.

"Yeah, stuff has changed"

"I dress like a grownup now"

"Yeah I wasn't going to comment on the almost-hipster coat..."

"It's not hipster!"

"Yeah, well the Pika I remember had a bright blue cap and..." he points at his pants, grasping for words

"Cargo pants?"

"Yeah, cargo pants, and a threadbare hoodie that was barely there..."

"Yeah, there was a fashion intervention."

***

"You worried about the hurricane?"

"No, if I had to be in a disaster anywhere I'd do it with these people, hands down. They are tough and prepared to face anything."

***

In the one place my skills to work with people are challenged because the world judges more harshly, and in the other my career would be pushed harder because better opportunities are there.

I suppose a rational person would choose better opportunities with more forgiving people.

"So when are you leaving?" Sid grins over his straw as he passes the beach bucket to me.

"Tuesday"

Living

"She doesn't like me because I argued against her proposal, and maybe wasn't kind about it."

Kalei walks a few feet behind me this time in her never-ending attempts to avoid my eyes when she's being confrontational. She's looking at the stack of grocery baskets instead.

"We talked about that, she's not mad."

"What then? She thinks I'm obnoxious?"

"You're a lot of personality to take at once, especially for long periods of time."

Mint. Limes. Club soda. Kalei likes testing the limits of how mean she can be.

"Do you have any idea what I'd give to be the kind of person that other people want to be around?"

***

"Oh, where is the train going?"

I lean against the window and hold the phone close to my ear in an attempt to not be that ass on the train that dominates the air with a phone conversation, "North, grandma, I'm going to see a friend."

"Oh, well that's wonderful."

I have fond memories of this grandma from when I was very young: building a birdhouse, and how proud I was the first time I could bat a ball the whole way over her house. There were kittens in the abandoned barn next door, a bay window where I use to sit, and an empty concrete slab in her back yard where I use to stand and look out over the field. She had a hummingbird feeder, but I lacked the patience to ever see many birds.

I remember jars of fireflies, and plastic mugs with zoo animals on them, and the excitement of spaghetti-o's in a glass dish that the microwave heated unevenly.

I remember watching her fight with my mother, and slowly realizing as I grew older that my attention was one of the prizes. I remember Christmas dinners where she would insist on something, and all of my aunts and uncles would get upset and fight. What they were arguing about and what they were talking about must have been different, because nothing they ever talked about seemed important enough to fight over.

I remember reaching the age where my questions about the world were more uncomfortable than adorable, and I remember grandma becoming more and more distant through this.

"You're getting all grown up you know!"

"I'm 11."

"You were so much fun when you were little!"

We didn't talk for years. There wasn't really anything to say. The question isn't so much if you love each other but if you can stand each other.

She's dying now, some sort of cancer. She's been thinking she's dying for decades, but now it is actually happening. I call her now, and we can talk about nothing, because we know this relationship isn't really going anywhere. We don't need to worry about how she'll never change, and how I'll never change, because it isn't going to matter.

The dying are so easy. The living are hard.

Dress Up

There's a new girl with purple hair here handing me a ukulele. "Do you know how to play?"

"No," I take it anyway and imitate her in picking out the guitar opening to 'Brown-eyed-girl.' It's a shame Ginger and Giraffe aren't here, they fucking hate this song.

Enron lags a little behind us, smartphone pressed against his face, one finger from his other hand covering the opposing ear, "No Jason, that isn't what we agreed to..." He's interviewing a candidate at noon just as we finish lunch, and discussing the results of it with his peers as we wander the next beach. He's got somebody calling him to schedule an appointment during the car ride home, and when we get back to the Torii he paces the front lawn working out the details.

"It's alright," Kaleidoscope laughs, "I looked at Nexus, I realized what a CEO was, and I knew exactly what I was getting in to when I decided to date him."

He's on the phone a few weeks later in the park, and he's huddled over his laptop while Kalei(doscope) and I are enjoying a beer. I'm not about to tear into Enron for being so involved in his work. He's as happy a person as any of us, and this is what he would do for fun anyway.

***

"I can't fucking believe this."

DC giggles and covers the microphone on the radio, "Hush a minute, we can't swear on the radio."

I can hear Sid's voice over the crackle through the radio, "You guys will never make it in that car..."

"Well if it's got to die, right in front of the dorms isn't a bad place..."

"WY1HBT here," the radio chirps, "I got this covered."

"Who's that?" I ask my carmates.

DC grins, "Whacker."

A few minutes later Whacker rolls up in an oversized truck grinning from ear to ear. There's a yellow lightbar bolted to the top of the truck, and seems like he just couldn't be more excited to be jumping the car.

"What's with him?"

"He's proud to be saving the day."

***

If I had known it was going to be this sort of party I probably would have tried to find some less ratty jeans to wear. The bar is full of people who believe they are slick and sophisticated. It is somewhat amazing to watch the similarities between people flirting and explaining their business plans to one another. I can watch streams of my contacts interact with one another from the balcony, and they all believe they're very important and influential.

***

"Yeah," he says taking a drink, "You see a lot of stuff."

"We had a sophomore come up with doll-eyes a few weeks ago."

"Oh for the love of CHRIST," CoLo looks exasperated, "No more EMS talk at parties!"

***

"It's like playing dress-up,"

We're back in the Torii parking lot, watching Enron pace around on his phone, and Kalei is giving me a very puzzled look. "But it's real..."

"That doesn't mean they're playing any less!"

I can watch Kalei trying to be very very patient with me.

"It's all just games. It's no different from when we were small and pretending to be important, except that, as a side effect of pretending for so long, some of these people actually made it real. That isn't the point, though, because they're still just playing. They don't do all this theater because it's needed. They do it because they love it, because they enjoy being the important person they dreamed of more than they enjoy the actual tasks of the job."

Kalei laughs, "Maybe we should get him a pretty princess hat..."