e doesn´t really know what happened but this isn´t the person she wants to be and this isn´t the life she wants for herself. Her self inflicted soul torment was evident and I felt my presence as big sister and fourth party was a bit invasive and embaressing for Lili, who was grams deep in confession. My parents too, could clearly see the pain and regret within their youngest and they left her to catch her breath and think about things. As quick as they left, lili´s tears vanished and wide eyed, she turned to me. "wanna see the good stuff?" Quizzical and majorly confused, I intelligently questioned "huh??""C´mon Maddie. I´ve got a great stash in the basement." I followed my sister to the basement in wonder and disbelief. Was she faking those tears before? What good stuff? Lili reached behind some shelves in the basement and presented me with a bag. I stared and kind of made a "ooh I see, suave" look. Lili´s eyes danced and her bold cheeky smile that spread across her baby face shifted into a smirk. Before I could process the fake hysteria and lili´s seemingly long term drug habit, she gave the head nod "sup" to someone behind me. All of a sudden, neighborhood kids the likes of whom I´ve never seen before poured out of the woodwork to greet lili. She was the coolest of the cool and she was clearly the center of this pose. Who were these bums? Dopers, long greesy hair and baggy pant hoodlums. WTF.
I tried to play it cool as my sister dealt and traded. So this was where shegot money. Those voiceovers are a cover for thereal shit! I couldn´t concentrate on one kid. Backwards hats, people thinking lili was cool. Whats going on?? They greated Lili like she was the sultan of the underground secret society and she was laughing at peoples jokes and having a great time. Then, I noticed her car, which is like an SUV Truck that is very very dirty, slowly back out of the garage but there was no one in the drivers seat. I turned to Lili. It was so obvious that she had complete disregard for anyone else and zero sense of responsibility and her car leaving was just more proof! Will our poor parents ever frind out? Lili is such a good liar she can fake a tantrum in a hot second! But, she is my sister and apparently cool so I shoudl tell her that her car is on the run.
"Lili!" I yelled in the pay attention I´m your superior voice. "Your car is backing up! Get it!!" Lili waltzed over to her car in her almighty swagger but she was just a few feet behind the truck. It gained speed and started rolling down the local beach. That was weird. Lili kind of quickened her step to get control over the car but was quite far behind. óh bother´I thought to myself. I can run fatster than her, I could get to the car first and jump in the drivers seat and stop it. ahhh but time is ticking. I thought, are you goign to do something or not? Not, except yell, "hurry up lili!" everyone was watching her and I started to feel bad but she is the screw up, not me. And then, the car headed twoard the water and at the ocean´s edge, Lili stretched out her arm, some how making up for the difference ni space between the two and switched the engin off. With her other arm she raised her hand over her head and signaled to her friends that she got it. Everyone cheered.
Lili laughed an ocean away. "What a great dream and easy to analyze. You are worried about me! Often cars in dreams represent control and your subconscious thinks that I´m not on the right road and going aff track or not in control..."
I interupted and it was my turn to laugh and clarify that the dream isn´t literally about her, but me. Duh. I care about me!
I´m talking to my sister who is studying for finals at school from the beach in Spain. I guess there is a logic to the binaries of stress and relaxing. The noise we silence in our wake, voice loud and clear in our sleep. Is our subconscious the big eavesdropper into our soul? The part of us and our being that is always listening to the contours of our reality as it relates to other truths and herstories? (yeah I had to throw it in there). In dreams does our subconscious enlighten us to the major anxieties in relationship to the selves we choose to listen to in consciousness? As if I wanted to worry about the metaphorical or literal road I´m on when I have intentionally diverted from the straight and narrow. Oh how the Costa Brava waves contort my way of being.
I am begining to think that the Costa Brava is involved in some freaky time and space warp. The church bells chime sporadically, multiple times an hour, in no particular pattern, and in repititions of three, four...its non sensical and doesnt´help us keep time! Also, Danise and I are fortuante enough to have a stereo in the studio. We have been missing tunes, especially because every bus ride plays the same american pop songs over and over again. At this point in time, Jason Mraz, Beyonce, and Lady Ga Ga can suck it. I´m over the poker faced pretty ladies which is more than I can say for the bus driver who Danise and I swear turned up the volume to Beyonce. The first station we listened to was a mash up of these songs and some of the current hip hop, and of course, 90s music. Think, Michelle Branch, LeeAnn Rhymes, Coldplay, Twain, Jackson, etc. The list goes on. It got to be so ridiculous and unpredictable (except it was good music to do our pre dinner pimiento dance to) that we turned to a local Port de la Selva station that is equally as random but spares us the pop drama. Get this; Greenday´s early "welcome to paradise" stuff followed by Herman´s Hermits "what a wonderful world this would be". Kid you not. The best part is here I get to embrace three of my pastimes in one event. Cooking, singing along to oldies, and dancing! Lucky Danise becuase oldies are the only genre I can harmonize to. In my opinion.
The ocean is so wonderfully salty that it takes almost no effort to float! The atlantic was much more rough but it seems so long ato that I was teaching Danise to be one with the waves. The girl kept bareling into them ending up on the loosing end of a nasty stinging water fight. Why she thought she could jump over them was beyond me. Its all about gliding baby, gliding. Stand on your tiptoes and go with the motion of the ocean (think a little more HairSpray´s "you can´t stop the beat" and a little less Bloodhound Gang´s "Discovery Channel").
We like this beach though, here in Port de la Selva, and the baby waves only come up to our calfs. The beach though, what a flirt! The first 15 feet out is a bit chilly and rocky and gets almost waist deep but a few feet beyond is soft brown sand, and shallow warm waters. We watch people walk for lengths into the ocean and forever looks different the further out you go. Salt cakes into our skin and stains the lipstick red of my bathing suit to a streak of fades. When we dry we can literally scrape away the salt. I spent an enormous amount of time in the water doing trickss and circling Danise in a crab walk or on my back as if I were a toddler craving attention from the babysitter who has her eye on the cutie lifeguard. There´s no lifeguard on our small beach. Only pervy old men who can´t stop peaking past their poor whale resembling wives at Danise and I who have under the Spanish Picante Sun have gone topless. I swear under my breath as its all I can do to keep from screaming down the beach "It´s called Hustler Mother F$&ker! Buy a magazine!" I thought I was clever in picking a spot on their other side the next day we went to the beach, but those sneaky S.O.B.s just shamelessly turned their heads and repositioned.
Time and Space Port de la Selva, Time and Space.
Much love,
MK
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