Bread Alone-Part 2

My fellow Arabelle and I finally made it down to the oceanfront around noon time.  It was as if I could hear the waves calling my name!  I know it sounds corny as heck, but for someone who had never truly seen the beach up close until adulthood, it was like stumbling onto another planet.  We were about to take our first steps on the sand when my roomie grabbed my wrist.

“Now, Arabelle, don’t you know that you are to remove them shoes before you get on the beach?  I like to take ’em off to prevent ’em from gettin’ too filled with sand.  Good thing all I packed were ma flipflops!”  She was a special person, that’s for sure.  Never did I imagine that someone with such a noticable twang in their speech could also turn out to be so well-spoken……at times.

“Uh, I guess you’re right.  This….is my first time to the beach.”  I said, still shaken (for no good reason) from her sudden wrist grab.

“ANY BEACH?” Said the wide-eyed wonder.

“Yes.  Any beach.  You see, I’m from Montana, a place that has weather and terrain that is the polar opposite of down here.  It’s…..kinda the reason I chose this school.  Well, that and the engineering program.”

“That’s pretty darn interestin’, if I do say so myself.”

We started toward the waves, the soft and soothing sand grains massaging my feet after being on them all day was such a treat.  My eyes took in the panoramic view of the atlantic ocean, beach that stretched for miles and miles.  When we finally arrived at the water, I started to have an uncontrollable urge to jump up and down like a little toddler, but my incoming adult senses knew better.

“Oh my, it’s sooo cold!  Is all beach water like this?”  I asked as I started to roll my Salvation Army blue jeans up to my knees.

“All the beach water that’s ever touched my body, at least.  Say, don’t you think you feel a little hot with all of that clothing on?  I mean, it’s darn near ninety degrees!  That flowy lil long-sleeved blouse you have on is cute and all, but long sleeves are only for the coldest of cold days ’round my neck of the woods.”  Said the other Arabelle, perplexed.

“Well, I think we just come from different environments is all.  I am from
the land of ice and snow, and you’re from, well, fire and……….more fire.”

We both chuckled, although her’s was in much more of an “I guess I get it now” kinda way.  In all honesty, the I feel I’d be lying if I tried to blame my lack of warm-weather clothing on the fact I am from a nothern state.  My incredibly chubby figure, I figured, was not at all meant to be seen in anything other than what I almost always wore: long-ish sleeves and baggy blue jeans.  As much as I wanted to change my dressing habits, I just couldn’t see it happening.

After our splashes were had, we agreed to grab some lunch at an oceanside crab shack about a mile from the school.

“Have you ever had some crab?  I know you didn’t grow up near the ocean, but EVERYONE’S had crab before they’re eighteen, right?”  Questioned Arabelle.

“This will actually be my first time!  Maybe you can show me how to eat them, looks like a tough task.”  I replied.

We were immediately seated when we arrived, even though the place was crawling with people.  The restaraunt was a nice little blue-painted shack called “Da Crab Joint” and crab-filled it was.  It wasn’t long before we were greeted by a very handsome waiter with a thick, spanish accent and super bright and friendly smile.

“Hello, ladies!  Welcome to the restaraunt!  Is this the first time here, for the both of you?”  He said in an ever-so genuine manner.

“WHY, YES.IT.IS!  You see, me and my homegirl here just got down here for school!  We go to the U of Miami!  And…guess.what.else………WE ARE BOTH NAMED ARABELLE!”  Just when I thought my name twin couldn’t outdo herself anymore, she proves me wrong.

“Oh my, how amazing!  You see, I come from Spain and have only been here a few years, so it’s always nice to meet new people.  Now, let’s see, can I start you girls off with something to drink?”

“I’ll have the shirley temple!” Said flame-haired Arabelle.

“Ok, and for you, my sweetie?”

I legitimately paused for close to ten seconds, not realizing he was talking to me until I snapped to it.

“Um….uh……I will just have some water with lemon.”

“Okay.  Thanks for the order.  I will be back to get your entrees whenever you are ready.  Take your time.”
It seriously wasn’t even a split friggin second after he left when my roomate tightly grabbed my hand and proceeded to speak in a high whisper.

“OH MY GOODNESS.  DID YOU NOTICE THAT?  He was super nice to you.  Did you see that way he was staring at you?”

“Ummmm, I’m pretty sure he would have called you ‘sweetie’ if you had ordered after me, also.  He is just a friendly man.”  I said, trying to get her to change the subject.

“I guess, hun, but that was some serious eye he was givin’ you!  Anywho, let’s talk fam!  I see your mom is quite the lady!  I assume you take more after your dad, though, because your mom looks more like she could be my own!”

It was as if the all the loudness of the restaurant came to a screeching halt after she uttered those words.

“Father?” I said to myself, quietly.

*New Story Series* Bread Alone-Part 1

My life began with a bang, and so it shall end similarly, but it ain’t over yet.  Thy name is Arabelle “Belly” Sethi and I’m twenty four years old.  I just thought I’d introduce myself early on to give you a better picture of who I am, but I am sure you will get a better taste of me as the story rolls on.  I guess I could preface by stating that like many others, my life has panned out much stranger than I could have ever assumed.

Flashback to me starting college at the University of Miami.  I am eighteen, curious, frightened, but ready to take on the behemoth ahead of me.

“Arabelle!  You know I can’t lift all of this by myself!  You are going to have to help your mummy!” Says the woman who gave birth to me.  The woman who was only carrying one out of my five suitcases, and conviently grabbing ahold of the smallest of the pack.

“Mom, why don’t you just put it on this carrier that one of the dorm movers just brought out?”  I said in an effort to calm her down.  She was certainly of the panicky variety, but I somehow dealt with it.  Afterall, she was my sole caretaker for all of my life.  Thankfully, one of the dorm movers took the time to help us move the carrier to my room as I had never stepped foot on that darn campus before.

Although the very prospect of moving all the way across the country for college was daunting, I knew it was something that I had to attempt to embrace.  Back home in middle-of-nowhere, Montana, I can’t really say I had anyone to call a true friend of mine.  Being a five foot two, two hundred and fifty pound, tan, shy girl in a town that contained people who were anything but that description did not make for a simple existence, but I made did with what I could.

So why, oh, why did this gal decide to attend one of the most social schools on planet earth?  Simple answer: the freaking beach!  While back home does offer breathtaking views of cattle on end (heck I could just look in the mirror), I have always had a desire to greet some pretty waves.  I finally had the chance to do just that as my mother and I finished setting up my new room.

“Say, Belly, do you want to walk on over to the oceanfront while we wait for your roommate to pop in?” Said my mother, setting the last of my toiletries in the shared dorm bathroom.

“I suppose so, yeah” I said, feeling a little odd at the prospect of being on a beach with all my clothes on.  We started toward the dorm room door when my roommate decided to beach walk-block us by making an extravagant entrance.

“WHY HELLO THERE!  MY NAME IS ARABELLE AND I’M FROM TENNESSEE!  HOW ABOUT YOUUUUU?  WHO ARE YOU?” Says this interjecting, six foot, athletic-built, porceline-skinned ginger gal who was basically a carbon copy of my mother (but much younger), personality included.  I started up a petty laugh as I reached my hand out to greet hers.

“Well, it’s funny actually, because….um”

“What my dear here is trying to say is that you have the honor of sharing a name.” Interjected (ya see what I mean?) my mother, placing a trying-to-be comforting hand on my back.

“OOOOOH. Ooooooh!  M’am, it sounds like you have an accent!  May I ask what country you are from?”  Said my name twin.

“She is from Ireland, born and bred.”  I said as I felt it was only natural to cover for her when she did so for me.

“Ooooooooooh!  I’ve never met someone from a foreign country before!  Nice to meet you!”

Also, although my fellow Arabelle carried a remarkably spunky attitude, her stare couldn’t help but give away the fact that she was silently trying to figure out how I was my mother’s daughter, and vice versa.  Nonetheless, the solo-flying sprite managed to haul all of her stuff up to the dorm room without a problem.  My mother and I helped her to settle into our room, and after an hour of setting up her every little knick-knack, we were all beat.

“Say, Belly, why don’t you and your new friend go out to lunch while I attend the parent orientation?”  Said my mom, somewhow thinking that would be a good idea.

“OOOOH, YEAH! THAT WOULD BE SUUUUPERRR!” Exclaimed the not-me Arabelle.

“Um…..sure.”  I said, rather reluctant about the whole thing.  At any rate, I figured there was only but so much that could go wrong.

Been A Long Time

SEAUXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX……………

it has certainly been a while since I’ve posted, but fear not for I am due to come back.

In the near future, I see myself composing a story unlike anything I’ve ever created before; a marriage between two worlds.  I guess it’s safe to say…..stay tuned?

Figured Out

Tracy Chapman + Michael Jackson = The Weeknd

I guess we all boast influences from one source or the next, but I’ve (lately) never come to realize one so specifically precise as this………….and I liiiiiik…uh………..loooooooooove it. And I love it.

Truth is, I don’t think life has to be figured out, but exploration simply feels necessary in order to keep us all afloat. Would you rather pray for the turbulent winds to brush your raft along, or would you rather sail in silence for fear of movement? Would you loooove it?

Almost Halloween

As per the previous post, I’m really getting into the spirit of Autumn right about now.  Jazz club affair.  Not too dark, not too bright, but just right.  Halloween seems to be the “holiday” that embodies that feeling like no other ‘cuz folks legitmately want to be spooked, and yet, wanna see the smiling faces of the babies who trot around from house to house, decked out in the latest in Tigger n’ Pooh costume wear.  “Tick or tweeeeeeeeeeeeeet”