Chapter XVII, in which Adele reveals a few of her fears

I don't fear death itself. I fear having a slow death. I guess if I was in too much pain while agonizing, I'd wish to die soon. But you never know really, do you? I don't get people who make long term plans. Have you seen When Harry met Sally?

Sally: Amanda mentioned you had a dark side.
Harry: That's what drew her to me.
Sally: Your dark side?
Harry: Sure. Why? Don't you have a dark side? I know, you're probably one of those cheerful people who dot their "i's" with little hearts.
Sally: I have just as much of a dark side as the next person.
Harry: Oh, really? When I buy a new book, I read the last page first. That way, in case I die before I finish, I know how it ends. That, my friend, is a dark side.

I'm kinda like Harry. I don't really read the last page of a new book and I really like to reread some of my favorite books (although each time I get to read it's a totally different experience). I think I tend to hold on to the past. I do reread books, I do watch the same movies over and over till I memorize parts of them, I go to the same places and I order the same dishes -- and when I go to a public restroom I always go to the same stall -- and I'm not very good at making new friends. Or maybe it doesn't mean I hold on the past, I just don't look much into the future. So I'm stuck in the present.

I don't like swimming in the ocean. The ocean is like, you know, big. And dark. It really scares me I can't see under the water and I can't reach the bottom. I like getting at the bottom of things, not only the sea. I'm more of a swimming pool person (or a bathtub person as I said before). I know, it's sad, don't tell me. I like to have my fingers wrinckle after hours in the water.

I find watching sunsets and sunrises oppressive somehow. Oh, yes, they're beautiful. I could watch them a million times and never get tired. But I just have to have my eyes on the horizon and the horizon is, you know, IMMENSE. I guess I'm just not used to immenseness. Like I said, I focus too much on the bottom of my glass of wine.

Chapter XVI - in which Adeles wishes she could just be staring at the fish tank forever

Right. I like fish. I eat them sometimes, but I still like them. Noelle doesn't care about them, she doesn't get what's the point of having a fish tank next to the piano. She thinks it's stupid. Sometimes I do too. She can be really smart at times. Like this one.

Just before our love got lost you said
I am as constant as a northern star
And I said, constant in the darkness
Where’s that at?
If you want me I’ll be in the bar

I'm listening to Joni Mitchell and feeling awfully blue. Think deep blue here. Think blue wherever you look at. Think skies in a day that's so perfect there's not one single cloud there to mess things up. You get the idea.

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I’m frightened by the devil
And I’m drawn to those ones that ain’t afraid

I could watch the two gold fish I have swimming around and worrying about anything else in the whole world but making silly beautiful bubbles forever. It's relaxing. It makes me think things could actually go right sometime. Like there's no other way but to find at least some happiness occasionally. I've always liked bubbles.

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet

When I was a child I'd make lots of bubbles in the bathtub. I'd spend hours trying to make the perfect bubble that wouldn't disappear as it touched the floor mat. My mom would knock on the door again and again. Ready yet? I don't think there was another child as clean as I was. I also enjoyed the feeling of rubbing my tiny feet against the cotton of the mat. I was so silly. There. A true moment of contentment.

Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time

Are you still here? I get this feeling that nobody cares about stupid lyrics. Anyways, what was I saying? Oh, yes. The sadness. The sad thing is. It's not that my heart is broken. It's not that someone crushed every little piece of hope and love that I'm sure at some point I had inside (God, this is a problem, it's just all so... ridiculous, promise not to laugh at me). It's just that not having anyone is so, I don't know, empty.

I need a bubble bath. I'd put the fish there to swim around my legs.

Chapter XIV - Adele's always amazed by the beauty of Roman Numbers

I wonder if someday this will have its MCLIVV entry. Double can't post in her blog - something to do with Apache but both of us have no idea what it is. So maybe, just maybe, her blog will be there, frozen, as if she had stopped in time. People might think she's traveled some place with no internet connection or died. So this is it. Good bye.

Went out for dinner with friends last night. I was kinda blue and couldn't shake off the whole "I wish I had a river I could skate away on" feeling. I really had to make an effort and fight every cell in my body that kept telling me to stay home and warm. So I just put my gloves on, took my favorite scarf, rubbed my ears as trying to encourage myself and walked out the door. Noelle kept looking at me from the couch. I hate when she gives me that look, you know, please stay. If there was a certain man there, I would have.

Never mind.

I was early and had to wait alone by the counter of the bar contiguous to the dining area. I noticed the bartender was really cute as I asked him for a drink. 'Something that makes me forget', I told him and his reply was he sure didn't want to forget about me. I smiled at him and turned my back at him. I'm not good at these things, you know.

I was laughing more than I usually do. It was a friend's birthday, got her a Diana Krall album. Not sure if she liked it, but I only give presents I myself would like to get. I got a little drunk and I only noticed this when this woman spilled Coke all over my shoes - great! it's great to get wet when we have this kind of weather outside - and I had to run to the restroom to clean up the mess. She grabbed my wrist and apologized again and again. I said it was ok and I'd never say it was ok. I even held her hand. I got a little drunk yesterday night.

Chapter XIII, where Adele finds time to answer Proust's questionnaire

The funny thing about answering this is that I will be exposing myself in a way I almost never allow myself to. I hope I won't scare you away, James.

Your favorite virtue: I'd have to say honesty and loyalty. Although none of them are any good if sense of humor lacks.
Your favorite qualities in a man: they're warm and their arms are perfect to hold us.
Your favorite qualities in a woman: the ability to make men understand the matters of their hearts and to offer comfort even though one's never actually asked for it.
What you appreciate most about your friends: They don't call me night and day, despite of the fact they know they sure can do that. They love to hug me.
Your principal fault: I'm pedant. And I can be pretty mean if I dislike someone. Mean in the sense that I'll point out one's faults in a way that would make one wish they would never see me again. I worry about not being liked. I just don't know how to ignore people.
Your favorite occupation: knitting and reading; taking long walks to observe people on the streets, eavesdropping their conversations. I like to read menus in detail. And blow the smoke that goes up of hot coffee and smell it and holding the mug with my two hands. I love having ice cream in the summer.
Your chief characteristic: I'm a good listener. And a keen observer of what happens around me.
Your idea of happiness: A nice house with a fireplace and a nice couch in front of it where I could rest during the winter. Lots of books and long play records and my favorite people coming by to share meals with me. There would be a rug in the front door saying welcome and that's how people would feel instantly.
Your idea of misery: Not being able to ask for help.
How would you like to be? Me, but prettier and wiser. I'd like to be one of those women who wear dresses with flowers on them and look great.
Your favorite color: Blue. It's also my double's favorite one. I love yellow too. Like sunshine yellow, only a little bit pale.
Your favorite bird: Would I sound cheesy if I said humming bird?
If not yourself, who would you be? I'll let this one to be answered when I die and meet God. I'm sure he'll ask me that and I'll come back to Earth.
Where would you like to live? I guess I covered that. But let's say anywhere I feel at home.
Your favorite prose authors: Charles Dickens, Paul Auster, Douglas Coupland, Nick Hornby, Douglas Adams, Alain de Botton.
Your favorite poets: Walt Whitman and Sylvia Plath. There are probably more, I'll have to think about it.
Your favorite painters and composers: Van Gogh, Mozart, Debussy and Chopin.
Your favorite heroes in real life: I don't think I have one.
Your favorite heroines in real life: Same here.
Your favorite heroes in fiction: Wow. Pip. I love Pip. I love the fact he's not perfect. He's not really a hero, but you get the idea. And I love the butler in Remains of the Days. Not much of a hero too.
Your favorite heroines in fiction: Will characters from movies do? Amelie Poulain. I wish I was just like her.Your favorite names: I like my double's name, although I can't tell you what it is. What? And spoil all the fun?
What characters in history do you most dislike: Skipping this one; it's kind of obvious.
How would you want to die? Peacefully, comfortably, holding hands with someone I love and singing.
What is your present state of mind: I'm calm and relaxed.
For what fault have you the most toleration: I don't.
The flower you like best: magnolias, I'd have to say. I also like a cactus's flower that only blooms once a year, during the night and has this perfume that could you make you want to stay awake all night. The flower blooms slowly and you can watch it forever. It makes you wanna die right there.

I know I haven't copied it here before, but there's actually one more question.
Your favorite quotation: 'I wish I had a river I could skate away on.'

Oh, and James, will you answer the same questions?

Chapter XII, in which Adele admits she's never read Proust in her life

Apud. I learned that when you want to quote an author of whom you have never actually read a book, but you still want to quote something that's in another book by some other guy, you should have a foot note saying apud right after the page and the other guy's name and book title.

I have never read Proust's books I'm afraid to admit. (I've just looked back, moving my head to take a peek on Noelle. She's so quiet, lying on my bed resting her head on my pillow. It's nice to have a dog like her, she's always around me). I fear I'll feel stupid and ignorant and I don't think people put themselves in situations where they'll feel stupid and ignorant on purpose, which could be even worse, since it's hard to defend ourselves from embarassament in unexpected situations.

I've just read Kiss and Tell, by Alain de Botton. He's a philosopher and he writes novels where there's some philosophy in them, but in such a light way you don't even realize you're actually reading about it. I feel pretty ignorant whenever I read one of his books, but I keep reading them because, you see, ignorance is bliss (and I meant it both as a joke and not). Anyways, I found the Proust questionnaire in this book I've mentioned.

Your favourite virtue:
Your favourite qualities in a man:
Your favourite qualities in a woman:
What you appreciate most about your friends:
Your principal fault:
Your favourite occupation:
Your chief characteristic:
Your idea of happiness:
Your idea of misery:
How would you like to be?
Your favourite colour and flower:
Your favorite bird:
In not yourself, who would you be?
Where would you like to live?
Your favourite prose authors:
Your favourite poets:
Your favourite painters and composers:
Your favourite heroes in real life:
Your favourite heroines in real life:
Your favourite heroes in fiction:
Your favourite heroines in fiction:
Your favourite names:
What characters in history do you most dislike:
How would you want to die?
What is your present state of mind:
For what fault have you the most toleration:
The flower you like best

Of course my original intention was to answer it, but it's awfully cold tonight and I'd rather be under the blankets. I think I'll let Noelle under the blankets. She makes my feet warm.

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Chapter XI, where Adele tells about a moment when she blushed

Hi, James. This blog is all for you then, since you are the only reader I have. I hope you appreciate the gift. Hi. My name's not Adele. Nice to meet you. If you're ever interested in getting to know the real me, than drop me a line. I guess you know my e-mail address. If you don't, here it is: adele_jameson at yahoo dot com.

I was at this party, by myself, as my double had another social engagement or was just at home reading a book (who cares?, it was my day off of her), holding my dry martini with my left hand and my cigarette with the other hand. It's a little trick I've learned to keep people away. Not having hands available to shake and letting smoke out of my nose really does the magic of keeping people away from me. I was lucky to have a host who would allow smokers at his house, though. If he didn't, I don't know what I could use as a substitute for the cigarette. Maybe a book that would make me seem really intelligent, intelligent in a frightening way. Maybe something by Hannah Arendt. But then people would approach and everyone knows you can always put the book under your arm so your hand will be free to shake another hand. Maybe the frightening intelligence would work anyway. I'll give it a try sometime soon. I don't drink dry martinis. In fact, I just chose to hold it because it makes me look pedantic when it's associated with the cigarette.

I was just walking around the room, circulating a little so I could watch people being them, which is always better than watching any reality show on TV. I approached this one group where one lady was doing all the talking and the four other people just nodded and said occasional 'yeah's. The lecturer kept going on how Muslims are evil and they are out there to kill all Americans and how Iraqis were fools who wouldn't appreciate American kindness in allowing them some freedom. Well, I totally disagree on pretty much everything the woman said, but I never discuss politics (at parties, that is) and I was certainly not in the mood for that. I think I probably involuntarily grumped because one of the gentlemen who wouldn't stop nodding and had the most horrible fake sexy voice (I guess he felt that would give the impression that he was in fact a sexy intellectual) looked my way and asked me if I had any thoughts on the matter.

Of course I had, but I hesitated for a moment. I don't mingle at parties. I'm too shy. I just don't think I'm cut off to mingle and smile and be nice. I have to pretend I am if people ask me to. So, no, I'm sorry, I don't, was my answer. This reply made him flip his lid. Such an extreme reaction, I thought, maybe she had a little too much to drink. Maybe she thinks flipping over this makes him seem even sexier to the eyes of the lady he was with. So he started yelling at me: 'You Muslims! Aren't you ashamed? Have you no conscious?" He even called me names. He was so not a gentleman.

Now, I'm a peaceful gal. I mean, I don't get into fights and the only time I was genuinely angry happened when I was what? 15? I hit a girl in her face during a handball game, using the violence involved in the game to make a statement she never really got because I didn't tell her. Instead I apologized. She was just so obnoxious to everyone in our Math class I just had to let it out somehow. The guy kept yelling at me and I could start feeling the blood running to my face. I blushed and my mouth turned as dry as my martini. I kept quiet, of course. 'Coward!", he shouted to my face, with his finger up.

I can't stand people fingering me. It's just so irrational it makes me mad. I decided to speak up in a very calm way, the softest tone of voice: 'I just think the president has come up with a lame excuse on chemical weapons to invade a country and overlook a country's sovereignty, that's all. As for the killing, have you asked yourself how many civilians have been killed by mistake? I don't know much about Islamism, I'll give you that. But at least I don't babble about things I know virtually nothing about just to look smart and to get laid with a silly someone who thinks this is an expression of intelligence.' Ok, I never said that last part about getting laid. I'm just too polite on the outside to do that. In return, the lecturing lady said something like 'You liberals make me sick to my stomach. How can you be pro Sadam and his attrocities?' That was when I turned my back at them (such a waste of time!) and decided not to go to parties at Sam's anymore. Never ever.

I had the sudden wish to be at home, sitting on my couch, listening to jazz and knitting Noelle a nice dog scarf. So I took my coat, put out the cigarette, left my glass on a table and left. I waved at Sam and smiled. So much for the dry martini slash cigarette trick.

Chapter X, in which Adele pops out the question:

Who are you?

Ok. I never thought I'd say something like this, but here it goes. I need an audience. I know I don't write enough to keep people coming to read, but hey!, my double is living a busy life these days, full of not-so-happy and kinda-happy events and it's really hard to make her finally decide to let me write.

Hello, you!, you who is the single reader who keeps coming here day after day who are you? I can't bear living in ignorance like this. Not that I don't consider myself quite ignorant about a lot of things. Please do tell me who you are, since you know (?) who I am.