A small raft of cold wind enters the room and moves straight to my mouth as I lay half asleep. It comes from the heater; to be precise the wind is let in by a hole in the wall where the heater's fan is implanted. My mattress is placed on the floor and I sleep with my pillow facing the heater so that I can breathe the morning's first breeze. Despite the wake-up call, it is the last holiday of the year and I decide to stay in bed a couple of hours more. I lay lazy with the covers gently blowing at my cheek.
I dreamt with the color green. It was in the same streets I had wondered the night before, but tinted with an oaktree green that gave a warm feeling to my unconsciousness. As if everything was made of grass I met the usual fellows that hugged me and kissed me violently, and was interrupted by the same feelings of friendliness and mockery brought upon the changing figures around me. Everyone's eyes was the color of basil before waking up once again.
My mother had already left. She always wakes up early, even without placing an alarm clock. It was as if she spent the entire day planning to be awake at 7am the next morning. Just one of those things she trained herself to do as the years passed, like leaving the apple stubs in empty tea cups. But her awakening didn't affect me since I'm a grown adult and have no parent-brought obligation to rise with the morning dew and get a head start. So my mother left me sleeping and went on to do her things; fix her hair, make anita (her 98 year old friend) her breakfast, take a taxi cab to anita's house, etc.
Meanwhile with my face under the blue blankets, my eyes half here, half there, I lifted my legs so high as to touch the cealing. This is how I get up from bed on days like these. Then I made a ninety degree turn, struggled with my arms until the bed let go of me, and placed my feet on the floor. The day was an uncertainty at the same time that it was seduced by routine. I hoovered to the living room area and stretched my arms like a panda bear and began to scratch my head. It is in these moments that I felt most like a teddy bear that had been left three days underneath the dirty clothes in the corner of the room. The living room smelt of cats sleeping on the sofa, as usual, with Brigitte a bellied spotted sinking in between two of the white sofa cuchins, her neck stretched and her eyes tight.
After I improvised the typical holiday lunch at 2pm from what was left and eatable in the refrigerator, I could think of nothing better to acompany my meal than a good couch seating in front of the television and next to Brigitte being more and more swallowed by the white monster sofa. If I was lucky I too would be eaten by the sofa and end up in some obliged vacations on a cloudless white valley made out of cotton, where sheep dominate shepards and marshmellows grow small-medium-big on white bushes next to white wine lakes.
With the plate on my lap, armed with fork and a control remote, I pressed the red "on" button and the black screen was invaded by the image of an animation made out of cut papel mache arranged to characterize houses, little people, and a basic scenery of a snowed topped mountain in the far distance. It wasn't long until I began changing the channel. Next there was a cartoon animation of an orange tiger on top of a very thin tree branch. The tree swabbed from left to right as the tiger opened his eyes wide with fright. He said "No me gustan los arboles" and continued to wabble from one side to the other. I took a bite of my brown rice with tomatoes, avocato, and parmesean cheese.
Past the children programing channels I saw a familiar face being interviewed. It was Kathi Griffin, a redheaded outspoken comedian born in the United States. I had grown familiar with her in my years spent as an adolescent who studied comedians that were given sitcoms or were invited to the late show, conan o'brian, or Jay leno. I thought she was a relatively funny person, but held no admiration for her. She said "....and she came with me to hand out flyers and then there was a line in the comedy factory that turned the corner, it was a miracle" and a narrator's voice, with a neutral spanish in a profound tenor's voice, continued
"pronto se habian agotados las entradas para ver a kathi griffin en the comedy factory y era kathi a quien mas le costaba creer la repercucion que se habia agregado a su carrera. Por su desfachatez y familiaridad con la condimentaba su acto Kathi empezo a llenar las butacas de
the comedy factory. Pero lo mismo que le habia traido a su publico fue lo que frenaba su carrera de tomar el paso hacia el
mainstream."
While the narrator spoke the screen showed images of
the comedy factory, a grey building with neon lights above the entrance. Then apeared Margaret Cho, an asian-american comedian with a round body and an oval face. She spoke of Kathi,
"kathi has no filter, and she will use in her act the information that is confined to her by her celebrity friends. It's part of who she is. There are people that wont speak to kathi because she made fun of them in her act"
I had already finished half of my lunch, leaving for last the cheese and the avocato, when an african american appeared on the screen, with a beautifully curled hair backgrounded by a pink wall.
"watching kathi is literaly like going out with your girlfriends. you gossip about people you know, you laugh. and kathi wont hold anything back."
The narrator's voice returned and fotos of kathi posing next to various people took the screen once again.
"cuando e! true hollywood regrese la vida amorosa de Kathi Griffin se vera afectada por una vuelta inesperada."
The image of the current, mature, redheaded Kathi returned. Her blue eyes were glassy and on the verge of tears when she said pointedly "I thought it was the biggest failure of my entire life."
Not in the mood for comertials, I decided to explore through the next channels. A speeding race car, a soccer player agonizing on the field with his knees folded on his arms, and a golf ball flying in the open air were some of the scenes by which I passed as a I pressed the "^" button. I detained myself on a male face with a dark beard and blue eyes, he was on a courtyard and you could see the green woods behind him. He wore a period suit, with high shoulders and velvet cloth. Looking straight forward to the gray sky he was met by the slender body of a woman in her mid thirties, with strawberry-blond curls falling on her back. She wore a white dress that covered her legs completely, and the sleeves were half cut showing her porcelain arms. She placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear "father will be detained in a meeting with the lords this afternoon, the maids have been dismissed and sister was sent for her violin lessons in the chapel..."
The scenery imnediatly mutated into an that of an african american wearing a flowered shirt and a pair of sunshades walking by city streets filled with traffic signs and cars. A music with a funky bass line adorned with a syncopaded electric guitar backed by a steady tempo was played while the black man crossed the streets with his golden bracelets swinging from his wrists as his hands laid still underneath the pockets of his bell-bottom pants. I began to think who's boyfriend I would steal if given the chance, and what strategy I would use. I guess I would simply let it happen, or maybe I'd write a note saying "I think I'm in love with you" and let him decide. I was astonished at how highly I thought of my natural seduction as I sat with a plate of left overs on my lap and the control remote on my hand, half swollen by the couch, and half hypnotised by the television. This produced me a laugh and a change of channel, just when the african american was about to get into a brown ford with a hollahoop doll placed moving her waist to a fro above the glove conpartment.
"Detras de la chica simpatica que se burlaba de las celebridades habia una persona altamente suceptible y cuyo matrimonio de 6 años con Matt Moline se estaba disolviendo"
Kathi appeared in what seemed a celebrity event, such as an opening of a debut, being interviewed with a white light iluminating her face. She was wearing a black chall and was amongst a crowd of people with dresses and tuxedos. She said in a discreet tone "he doesn't know we're getting divorced. poor thing. so we're trying to be friends for these last events he's accompaning me to. well, you know how it is. love fades."
Jude Law and Natalie Portman were looking at eachother. Natalie Portman had short hair and a coat with a feathered neck as she stood crying and looking straight at Jude Law. "did you ever love me?" Jude Law, wearing a black sweeter and with his eyes set on Natalie Portman said
"I love, and I will always love you" he came near her and hugged her. For which, coughed by tears, she said
"you won't be happy with her, you'll miss me. I'm the one who's supposed to leave you" she gave him a kiss. He hugged and kissed her. Still in his arms she told him
"go make some tee." It was night and after he began to heat the water he noticed she was gone. She left the door open in a quick and impulsive getaway. He ran outside to the street and called
"Alice.."
