backyard crowing
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dreams, quotes, & \"Cybil\"
last night's dream -
i boarded the wrong bus and thought i saw my maternal grandmother on it. i didn't want her to see me, because i knew that she knew i was supposed to be in some other place at that time. i was missing either an important class or a test or something, but i had accidentally taken the wrong bus. i did not mean to--i thought i was going the right way.
she had her hair up in a ponytail, in a clip. she never wears her hair like that. when we arrived, it was at some medical sciences building. i had no idea how to get back to school, i was stuck there. i saw my grandma walk into the building, and followed her in. i saw the room that she went into, and began to doubt that it was her, because of her hairdo. i waited all day in this building, just watching people and wondering how i would get back. i waited all day, and into the early evening. it became dark outside, and i saw the woman who looked like grandma come out of the area of the building that i had seen her enter. i asked her how i should get home, and she said that a bus would be coming, and i could take it. we both took the bus back, and that was all.
the night before -
i dreamed that i was working for a restaurant, and i was a newbie. i had a well-waitressing-versed older sister who worked there too, and i asked her where i should find the workers' schedules. she told me that at the front and the back of the restaurant were schedules posted up on the wall. i remember being terrified that i had missed a day by accident because i had not known where the schedules were. i went to tend to my tables, and after they were all sufficiently happy, i started milling around other people's tables to try and make them happy, too. one lady (who happened to be my sister's customer) started begging me to let her leave without paying, because she had no money at all. then i noticed my sister nearby, and flagged her down. the lady began to tell a sad sap story about how she was ashamed of herself and lying to her parents about being pregnant. she was also wearing a shirt that kept coming undone, which made her very self conscious. her whole outfit explained her confessions--she was like a living PostSecret postcard! my sister was wearing a shirt that i had lent her earlier, and she exchanged shirts with the customer. though she gave my shirt away, i did not care at all. i was glad she could have it. i guess this is me being taken advantage of, but i had no problem with it. i consented, and i wasn't pressured.
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"Be who you are and say what you feel 'cause those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." - Dr. Seuss
"The World is my country, all mankind are my brethren, and to do good is my religion." - Thomas Paine
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ah, and THIS is another start to a story, somewhat like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,"
only not:
And so, I start. My name is Cybil Marroquaon, and you probably cannot pronounce my last name. No one can; you are not alone. You should also know that I'm only sixteen, and my parents died shortly after my second birthday. i don't remember them, but i know from hearsay that they were hippies, and abandoned all of their relatives to live alone and be "one with nature". unfortunately, this means i have absolutely no family, save one i am too lazy to create. i live and go to school at an orphanage in boston, but i work a few blocks down the street. i make mediocre grades, and i'm shy, so most kids tend to ignore me. i'm okay with that.
The past week has seen some fairly strange and wondrous happenings in my part of the jungle, and now I feel I must record these events, for posterity and my own sanity. If I don't remember what happens here, who will I be afterward?
I guess I should start from the beginning, which was three months ago. At that point, I began work at a small start up company called MemCo, filing and doing secretarial work for my level-headed boss Trent. I knew little about what it was our company did, and I suppose they thought it wise to hire a nice know-nothing like me to complete some dirty work. They paid me $17 an hour, so I didn't complain. Everything I did was undercover--our office was even underground, beneath an old abandoned parking lot. There were only five employees, and a few customers now and then. At least they seemed to know the purpose of our existence.
About a month into my time with the company, my co-worker Bentley came to me from a room in the back of our office (a place I was told never to go) to inform me that "a company meeting is in order, and all of us except Jukie are required to attend, it's tommorow at three." this was news to my ears, as i had never been important enough to be included in any meeting. if trent had a
problem with my organizational skills, he confronted me himself, and certainly never in the presence of anyone else. and why would Jukie not attend? what was wrong with Jukie? he had guarded the front door faithfully since MemCo's grand opening two years ago, surely they were not to fire him. and even if they were, why would they need my say in the matter?
the work was light, the pay was heavy, and i was able to work independently most of the time. customers were scarce and usually stayed for most of the day, but out of my way. they typically arrived one at a time, and were relatively polite. some of them would ask me questions like, "how long will this take?" or, "have you done this before?" but i shrugged and told them to refer to trent. those were my orders: "if asked questions, tell them to refer to trent." oddly enough, none of the customers filled me in on the products they received.
the following day, i reported to the meeting at three, even though it was my day off. i walked to my usual spot behind the counter and glanced at yesterday's post-its. i still hadn't filed Ki's customer info cards, jukie needed new sunglasses, and bentley had asked for more staples.
Her Boss-Trent
Primary Scientist-Ki
Door Guard-Jukie
Lab Technician-Bentley
Secretary-Cybil
- tuesday, nov. 28, 2006
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