relationships

Cecily, messaging while Marty McFly is in the bathroom.

Cecily: I am on a first date with Marty McFly. He’s wearing a half-denim varsity jacket. He said “Don’t cry for me Argentina”, when he left for the bathroom, and he has a watch with a digital face.

I’m into the weird ’80s/90s vibe, but I do feel like I’m living in a period film. He said I was like Zelda Fitzgerald. So our eras have collided into great making out and digital-faced watches and big vintage hats.

I will likely never see him again, because I can’t deal with someone who says the words “fresh” and “slammin'” un-ironically.

He has a haircut that makes him look like the Karate Kid. Also, he has Warner Brothers characters on his hoodie, and a cute smile. There are white pants and shoes involved, after Labor Day. He continually references Peewee Herman. He uses the Internet, even though personality-wise, it really feels like he shouldn’t.

From his touch, he may be really good in bed. We have a physical connection despite the lack of congruent eras.

Two friends, on narrative.

Cecily: I go through silly extremes. Last year, I worked myself to the bone physically and emotionally. Then, I was a voracious shopper, in glittering boots and Serbian rabbit furs. Then I became a restless housewife, befriended by laundry and experimental stews. The continuum of my life is so fractured, and my dominant personality traits shift so frequently. This is one of the reasons I crave marriage. It seems like necessary connective tissue in the narrative of my life. Thing is, I’m not sure if real life is supposed to have a narrative arc.

Xavier: It’s not. And if we treat ourselves like we’re fictional characters, then it will rarely be with any sort of actual justice or understanding. It will be a series of grand sweeping gestural things, and unrealistic narrativising. Leave that to other people to do about you.

Cecily: But narrative smoothness in life might help. Might help me keep a tabs on how I’m doing as a human. I feel kind of like a fish. A fish with nowhere to go, in a really fancy hat.

Sisters, on dressing.

Delilah: Tell me, are you dressed entirely as Zelda Fitzgerald?

Cecily: How does Zelda Fitzgerald dress?

Delilah: With regard.

Cecily: I am in bed. So I am not dressing with regard.

Delilah: Perfect. Not dressing, with regard. You should know, it’s dangerous leaving punctuation to your adversary.

Two friends, on lamb.

Cecily: I spent the whole of yesterday stressed about the small levels of dust in my house, and obsessing over the lamb shanks that I’m cooking for my impending romantic home date.

Alexander: I am silently judging you for eating not only an animal, but a baby animal.

Cecily: I love eating baby animals. And wearing their parents.

Two friends, on budgets.

Cecily: Raj says my version of being on a budget is purchasing a €20,000 dress for €2,000.

Ohan: That is a great deal. Especially if you can sell it for €10,000. 

Cecily: The problem is, I get attached to things. Especially things I have acquired through good deals. I feel it in my soul. In my blood. The deal-making. I am my mother’s daughter. 

Ohan: Which part of your blood makes you not sell?

Cecily: The Cecily part.