Magical Tipsy Toes

I love my bedroom. It’s not too big, not too small. It’s off white with rainbow prints all over. My window overlooks the sea. Actually, all but one bedroom has a sea view. I switch on television. I need to finish watching that damn “Bones Up My Alley” series. My computer just got hooked up yesterday….so I can’t wait to get that new “Kill the Fool Pai-Hat” game. It feels strange sleeping on a queen size bed. It makes me want to roll all over my bed.

My bed sheets look way spiffy. Yellow sheets with purple pillow cases with unicorn prints on them. The roommates were a little iffy about the colour though….but they gave in when I told them it was either that or the little green butterflies.

I walk out of my room….and I see him in his boxers and his work shirt and tie…pouring milk into his cereal. He reads the paper while standing over kitchen counter and munching his cereals.

Michael: “Hey you….morning!”

Kelly: “Good Morning!”

Michael: “Breakfast?”

Kelly: “Yeah…in a bit”

Michael: “Lav’s still asleep….go wake her…maybe she’ll be up in time for lunch”

I watch him get back to his breakfast and papers…and I smile to myself knowing that in a while he’ll start reading the headlines out loud in his ‘Game Master’ voice.

The kitchen is really Lav’s domain. She wanted it however she wanted it. After all, she’s the cook in this apartment. I get dibs on the alcohol we buy…Michael..well, he gets dibs on the type of fruit juices and milk we need to drink. It’s strange though, even though Michael and I aren’t too spiffy about kitchen appliances, we loved the way Lav designed it. The fridge that dispenses water on the outside, with crushed ice of course. The coffee maker makes one high by just smelling the beans. The cabinets…and the colour coded utensils were those that Lav just needed to get from IKEA. I think she secretly wrote to IKEA and told them to colour code it the way she wanted. Although, we each have 3 different sets of dinner plates given to us by our folks. But we’re cool in using whichever ones….but when it comes to some sort of occasion or festive seasons, Lav and Michael both love using a particular type. They say its adds to the ambience or something.

Unfortunately, Michael figured that this brand of microwave really rocks because that’s what he used to have at home and so he lives by it. But you see…that damn microwave was way too irritating to use. I believe that microwaves should heat things…or warm them up. Therefore, in order to do that, hot air needs to be released. I’m not sure why Michael’s microwave dispenses cold air.

So with Lav’s help. I replaced it. Funny thing though, it’s been almost 3 weeks and he still hasn’t noticed.

I walk towards Lav’s room…her room is at the end. She called dibs on the master bedroom. Citing reasons that she needs her space and she needs a lot of closet space because she’s a girl who loves shoes and bags. Michael gave her heat for it though…but he figured any room would do as long as the walls were thick enough to drown out sounds.

I switch on the television in the hall because it’s a Saturday and they have kick ass cartoons in the late morning. I could tell Lav had been up late cause she left her hand phone on couch and her laptop is still running. And then she wonders why it hangs on her frequently. We’ve got a huge ass cabinet movies and music stuff. Of course, when you have Lav and Michael together…you know your couch and seats have to match with the entertainment set and curtains and floors and walls. I like that everything is all so matched. Makes the living room hell spiffy.

I don’t bother knocking on Lav’s door. She never hears it. So I tippytoes in and lay down beside her. I try the soft attempt to wake up. She mumbles incoherently and shifts a little. I decided maybe I’ll give her another ten minutes. As I lay on her bed…I look up into the ceiling. Her walls are off white with speckled egg shell colour all over. Except for the wall behind her bed, that’s a deep red instead. Her sheets and pillow cases are black and her comforter red. Her television is just across her bed and she has all these papers spread out on the floor. I’m not sure what they are…but I figure they are for her upcoming book or maybe…just maybe she’s decided to bake pie and those papers were recipes for pie. I love being in her room.

Sometimes, when I come home late and I hear her watching the tv…I go on in and we talk or sometimes, she does work and I just keep talking. Most of the times, Michael joins in and somehow, every Saturday night, we end up sleeping on her bed…and when Dawn visits us with breakfast….she joins in, too in the tangled web mess.

It’s been over twenty minutes and she still refuses to get up. I lose interest…and I head out to go check on breakfast. Ok, I lie…I go check to see if there’s anymore coffee left. Ok, I lie again. I just go grab my orange juice and fruit loops and watch cartoons.
All of a sudden, Michael yells from his bedroom. A frantic yell. Of course, the crazed paranoid person that I am, I bolt right outta of the couch and into his room…and there he is standing in front of his full length mirror. This, by the way took us ages to find, because he wanted one that was just right. Because of his frantic yell, I had assumed we were going to face an insect of sorts. But instead, he stands there..Looking a little frazzled because his tie is irritating his throat and he can’t turn his head properly. Instead of helping him though….I sit down at his computer and we start talking about the upcoming games…of course while this conversation is going on, he grunts in frustration…but talking about computer games seem to calm him down much.

I like Michael’s room. While Lav’s is hell calming and comforting…his is very different. It’s got this dreamy tone…maybe it’s because of his dark grey walls and black bed sheets with white pillow cases. All his things are neatly arranged. While Lav’s neatly arranged shoes take the cake….Michael’s stuff in his room to the things in his bathroom…they’re all in proper order, facing the proper way….perpendicular to the edges of the room or the line… I don’t know. It’s just so proper and yet…so damn dreamy.

And as I listen to him talking about latest avatar he killed..I can hear Lav attempting to get out of her bed…and I remember the conversation we had a long way back, when we were in the car on that particular lazy Tuesday.

I like that we have a balcony with a huge swing. And we sit there after dinner every night and have a smoke or a drink and we talk about our day. Or how our answering machine has backup singers provided by yours truly. I like that sometimes, when either one of them feels blue or don’t feel like talking…I can write them little notes and slip it thru their door. And the next morning, I find that they stuck it onto the sticky board I bought for their rooms.

Or when one of us is feeling blue…we know immediately that this calls for Ben & Jerry ice-cream or a sleep over in one of our rooms. I like hearing you two sitting outside on the swing…talking and laughing..while I’m in room reading. And I can hear just when he irritates you and when she’s trying to get her way. I like that Michael gets hungry just as easily as I do. And when Lav says she isn’t hungry, both Michael and I know we gotta buy an extra packet for her because she will get up and ask why we didn’t get her any.

And when my heart is sad…I can just go into your own and lie there..without having to wake up feeling scared that I’m going to be shouted at or hit at or spat at. I like how we’re all quite spiffy with our chores and it really works well with us. The cook, the washer and the moper. Or that when one of us have someone else staying the night, we can sound him/her out and it’s ok. Or when your hearts get broken…it’s not the fixing that needs to be done…it’s the patching and soothing that works well. Like a band-aid on a scraped knee. I like that Dawn stays over, that’s why we bought the apartment with 5 rooms. And sometimes, when Steven works late, Kat stays over and we play trivia late into the night. Or sometimes, I wear long johns and we do the dance of boogie late at night.

The apartment. Your apartment. My apartment. Our apartment.

I remember that conversation so well, you have no idea. I know these are all dreams….but it makes me smile every time I think about it.