12 September 2000 ~ My diet, and housemate v.4.0...

It's lightning-ing outside, so I probably shouldn't be online, but I don't really care. If I'm going to get zapped and die, I'd prefer to get zapped while I'm writing as opposed to doing anything else.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Something happened to me a couple of days ago that really pissed me off. I didn't write about it because my mind was elsewhere, but a few days later, it's still bothering me, so I think I'll just have to write it down.

So I'm in Java's, taking a short break. Nathan had made this cheesecake that looked like an art exhibit entitled "God With Blueberry Topping." So I worked a little bit of my Java Magic, and made little whipped flowers around a slice of the blueberry cheesecake. I gave each flower a tiny center of raspberry sauce. It was damned beautiful. And I was damned hungry. So I took my break with Nathan's and my lovely piece of edible art.

...And as I was sitting there, chowing down, this guy sits down next to me at the counter to sip his coffee, and says something to the effect of, "You ought to diet... you shouldn't be eating that."

First off, I have never seen this man in my life.

Second, I damned well do NOT need to diet. Pardon me to anybody who has issues with their weight, but when people who look like me go on diets, those people are called anorexics. According to the miracle of modern medicine and statistics charts, I weight slightly below what's recommended for my height. According to a few of the people lucky enough to see me naked, I have a very nice body. I'm not bragging -- I was blessed with a nice figure and a thin-but-not-gaunt frame. I like to honor what I was born with. It's not something to brag about, because I did nothing to deserve what I have and what I look like, but I have it, and I look good, and dammit, I'm happy with that so I don't feel bad saying it.

Okay, so what gives this man the right to tell me what I should or should not eat?

Oh, I get it -- women are supposed to be dainty. Women are supposed to eat three raisins and get "full" because they're watching their weight. Women are supposed to be 5'8" with big boobs and they're supposed to be 118 pounds like Kate Moss. And they most certainly should not eat cheesecake with whipped-cream-flowers. That's just repulsive, enh?

Perhaps there's something SEXY in self-denial? Especially for women? I mean, as a woman, I'm not supposed to enjoy sex, or food, or... well, shit, I guess I'm not really supposed to enjoy anything... I'm supposed to be modest and moderate and....

Ashamed.

I'm supposed to be ASHAMED that I'm hungry sometimes and want to put food into my body.

Well, I'm not ashamed. If something happens to my metabolism and I end up being 300 pounds, and I'm hungry for a fucking doughnut, I'm going to get myself a doughnut, and I'm going to eat it proudly, because people are like... SUPPOSED to eat. It's like, the laws of nature, man: you eat or you die. Duh.

I'm not ashamed. I'm not ashamed of doing what I want, eating what I like, doing things that make my body feel good. I'm not modest, and I'm not embarrassed, and I'm not going to censor my actions -- especially not NECESSARY actions, like eating -- to please others. I've been doing that for far too long.

SO. If the man with the coffee was really so repulsed by the sight of me enjoying myself with a decadent piece of cheesecake, he shouldn't have fucking watched me. He CERTAINLY shouldn't have commented. People like that make me sick. People like that very nearly make me lose my appetite. But not quite... :?)

* * * * * * * * * * *

The phone rang in Java Joe's today. Nathan answered. He passed me the phone, and I couldn't read his expression. "It's the Binghamton police," he said.

I smiled. The first thing I thought was, Nathan's playing a stupid joke... The second thing I thought was, I wonder if it's David...?

There are maybe two people in the world dorky enough to call me at Java Joe's and say, "This is the Binghamton Police Department, can we talk to Helena please?" So I was pretty sure it was David when I took the phone, and the only real question in my mind was, why the HELL is he calling me at work?

"Hello?" I answered brightly.

"Hello, Helena? This is the Binghamton Police Department..."

Nope, it wasn't David. If it was David, he would have said, "Hello there." David ends most of his salutations with "there" or "now," as in, "hello there... bye now..." just like Aaron begins and ends everything he says with "dude." Also, it was a woman's voice.

"Um... hi?" Shit, it really WAS the fucking cops... As stupid as it is, I'm VERY afraid of cops, and kept mentally chanting a little mantra I keep handy for situations like... well, like having to talk to cops: What Would David Do? "Um... hi, there?"

"We're calling about Jo... She is your room-mate, correct?"

"Um... yeah." Oh gahd... copcopcopcop... W.W.D.D.? copcopcopcop... "Um, yes, yes she is."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

Absurdly, I pictured my housemate Jo packing a little duffel bag and taking off for San Francisco. I imagined she must have run away and her parents called the police. Of course, that IS pretty absurd, because Jo is 23 years old, and obviously she doesn't even LIVE with her parents, because she's living with me...

"I believe I saw her... last night..." I said, trying to concentrate on when I'd last seen Jo, and finding myself incapable of focussing on anything but mental images of badges and guns. copcopcopcop...

"Was she at home this morning?"

"She..." I really had to think. I took a deep breath and mouthed, "what would David do?" to myself. Cops are so damned scary. "I THINK she was home," I said. "I left the house around 8 o'clock or 8.15, and her door was closed, so I didn't see her before I went to work, but I suppose she was probably asleep in her room..."

It never occurred to me to wonder what was going on... After that image of Jo backpacking to San Fran, it never occurred to me to wonder why the cops were calling. She probably could have been hit by a Mack truck on State Street and I would still have been more concerned with the fact that I was talking to a scarycop. I guess that's pretty selfish and horrible, but can *I* help it?

"Well, the reason that we're calling is because a friend of hers called us this morning because they believed she was making a threat of suicide..."

All of a sudden, I was Helena-the-Javagirl; the same Helena who smiled politely at the guy who told me to go on a diet and told him to have a nice day. The same Helena who is all freaking business and professionalism. That Helena scares me a little, because I kind of get the feeling she's full of shit. But at least I stopped being scared of the cop.

"Okay... Is she alright? What else can I help you with?"

"Well, the reason we called you at work is because she's not answering the telephone or the door at your apartment... It is your apartment? She is your housemate?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's correct."

"We were wondering if she might have gone somewhere else, if she was in the apartment or if she might have gone somewhere else?"

"I'm almost sure she'd be home at this point, at my house... Are you sure you've got the correct phone number?"

The cop read off the phone number to me. "Yes, that's right. I can't imagine she'd gone anywhere else. Just a few hours ago I'm almost positive she was in her room asleep. Is there anything else I can do to help? I could leave work and come up there with my keys and unlock the house..."

"Well, that's what-- can you hang on a minute please?"

"Sure."

I waited. Cops aren't scary... Well, not all THAT scary... Well... okay, they don't make me want to run into an alley and hide... Well, okay, so I was still flipping out... But at least I was being relatively cool about it. I was still having trouble being concerned about Jo. I mean, after all, this was a COP I was talking to...

"Okay, Helena, are you still there?"

"Yep... I mean, yes, I am."

"We're talking to Jo right now... So you don't need to leave work or do anything at all. We'll keep you updated on what's going on."

"Okay... thank you, officer."

*CLICK*

The phone rang two minutes later.

"Java Joe's, Helena speaking..."

"Helena, this is the Binghamton Police again."

"How's the situation going?" I asked, as if I was a hotshot lawyer on a hotshot-lawyer-TV-show. Hotshot lawyers can talk to cops any damn way they feel like... Maybe. I like hotshot lawyers. I know a few. Maybe I'll ask them for some pointers on how to talk to cops.

"We're bringing Jo to the crisis center... She's not going to the hospital, but we're going to bring her to the crisis center for right now..."

"Okay... And she's alright?"

"Yes." The cop's tone told me the conversation was over; there was nothing more to be said. So we hung up. A little while later, Jo's friend called to say she'd been taken to a hospital in Oneonta, about an hour's drive from here... I guess, at least for a little while, that makes me housemate-less...

* * * * * * * * * * *

Norman came into Java Joe's a few hours later, just as promised.

"I've got good news and bad news," I told him. "The bad news is that Jo got taken to a hospital because she was threatening to kill herself. The good news is that Jo isn't in the apartment and might not be for awhile..."

Now don't get me wrong... I do like Jo... She's weird, but I do like her... But we do not make compatible housemates.

One thing I really despise about Jo is that she hates men. Not just, "gee, guys are stupid." Everybody knows guys are stupid. Girls are stupid too. Apparently, Jo doesn't really understand that... Jo, who spent half an hour telling Aaron he's a pathetic excuse for a human being one evening. Jo, who says, "oh, it's YOU," every time a male comes over to the apartment. Jo, who said or did something that made Norman absolutely unwilling to come to my apartment, even just to come inside, pick up a video, and leave.

I dunno... I can't quite think about all of it yet...

Norman sort of smiled. He was also sort of concerned. The subject was dropped quickly. I walked him home, kissed him on his doorstep... Gahd, he makes me smile.....

I have to go to bed now... Morning comes early...

~H.T.*