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Showing posts with label Madison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Madison. Show all posts

Sunday, 3 June 2012

[Ellie's Story] Take Care, Ellie

     Hi Simon,

Sorry for not having responded sooner. It’s been sort of a rough week and even the simplest things have been taking twice as long to complete. I hope your week has been going well. Did you settle that case that you were stressing about? And how was your weekend Frisbee tournament? Hope your team won!
My week has consisted of mainly work and eating. I’ve been binging on ice-cream, mandarin oranges, and high-end pastries lately, and trying to enjoy some of the spurts of sunshine that we’ve been having. I’ve roamed around Stanley Park, and even made it out to QE park with Madison last weekend. (Have you seen any of the ducklings swimming in the ponds and waddling about the city? Super cute…) So despite the tough week, I’ve been trying to stay positive and relax whenever I can.

Anyway, I hope next week will be an improvement. Only time will tell! Let me know what you’ve been up to lately – chat soon.
~ Ellie

I double-checked my spelling before sending the email. Simon and I had still been emailing intermittently. I've noticed that his enthusiasm had dwindled with my apparent lack of enthusiasm. In the beginning, he had reached out a lot to try to get to know me. I honestly tried to reciprocate, but some part of me always held back a little, not wanting to expose too much of my inner world to a stranger. He seemed to notice, and subsequently, he too held back. So for the past while, we've only chatted like pen pals would - with any undertones of romance forgotten. Somehow, this suited me much better.
I felt a bit guilty, as he seemed like a nice guy – worthy of any girl’s attention. I just couldn’t bring myself to muster any more energy, especially recently, with my new-found angst over David being back in town.

Sunday, 18 March 2012

[Ellie's Story] Compatibility

Monday, 8:20 pm – Candidate 1:
Me:            “What do you do for work?”
Him:          “I’m uh…between jobs right now. But I’m hoping to find something soon.”
Me:            “Okay. So what was your previous job?”
Him:          “I was a dancer.”
Me:            “Oh, like a ballroom dancer?”
Him:          <Pause> “Uh...like an exotic dancer.”

Tuesday, 12:35 pm – Candidate 2:
Me:            “So, you’re not opposed to living with a cat?”
Her:           “Not at all. I actually have a pet too. I’d like to bring it with me.”
Me:            “Oh cool. I’m fine with that as long as it gets along with my cat. What kind of pet  is it?”
Her:           “A scorpion.”

Monday, 27 February 2012

[Ellie's Story] Dating Deliberation

 “Sorry for the short notice,” said Sacha, standing outside the steps of my building. “I need it for some work this weekend.”
 “No problem, Sacha," I replied. "I was done stealing all of your music from it anyway. I had meant to return it to you sooner.” It was a cold, blustery Friday and I had agreed to meet Sacha outside my apartment after work so that I could return his portable hard drive. I opened the doors and we walked into the warm musty lobby of my old apartment building.
“Hey, can you come with me for a sec to the laundry room?” I asked. “I just need to post up my roommate ad to the bulletin board.” I dug around my bag and pulled out a hard copy of the roommate ad I had created last week. It had been sitting in my bag for a while and somehow I kept forgetting to post it.
Sacha took the ad out of my hand and read it aloud. “‘I’m a working professional in my mid-20’s, and a cat owner…tendency to be a night owl. Looking for a non-smoking female roommate…am generally a tidy person.’”
I snatched the paper out of his hands. “Hey, give that back. I need to post it,” I said as I walked towards the back of the building where the laundry room was located.
Sacha snickered at me. “I dunno about the ‘tidy’ part, Ellie. You might want to change that.”
“Okay, smart ass. When you come up, tell me how messy I am. I’ll prove you wrong.” I challenged him, since I had just cleaned my apartment yesterday.
Sacha laughed. “I’m just kidding, Ellie. Sheesh, someone’s sensitive.”
I shook my head at Sacha. We were in the laundry room now, and I pinned my ad up in an empty spot on the community bulletin board.
“Hello, Ellie!” said a voice behind me. I turned around and saw Mrs. Klein, who lived down the hall from me. She was walking in slowly with her laundry basket gripped in her small hands.
“Hi Mrs. Klein,” I said, walking over to her and reaching for her basket. “Here, let me help you with that.” I placed the basket on one of the large tables beside a washing machine.
“Thank you. You’re such sweet girl.” Mrs. Klein said. She looked up and noticed Sacha beside me. She smiled and winked at me. “Is that your new boyfriend?”
“No, Mrs. Klein,” I said, smiling apologetically to Sacha who was standing there awkwardly. “This is Sacha, he’s just my good friend. I’ve known him for years.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! And here I thought you had found someone after David. You deserve someone nice, Ellie. Someone smart.” Mrs. Klein adjusted the small glasses on her delicate face. Her grey hair was tied back today, different from her usual pouf of curls that I was used to seeing.
Mrs. Klein had witnessed David moving out. Ever since she heard of our breakup, she had insisted that I find someone else who was “worthy” of me. “I know there are a few new tenants who’ve just moved into the building,” she continued, “one fellow last month and another one just a couple of weeks ago. I met one of them. He seemed smart.” Mrs. Klein thought everyone was smart. Including the annoying kid on the second floor who bashed his toys against the lobby walls every time he walked by.
I forced a smile. “I’m sure he is, Mrs. Klein. And I’m sure I’ll meet all of the new tenants at the next building potluck.”
“Oh yes, you should,” replied Mrs. Klein. “You should be with someone nice, Ellie. You’re such a nice girl.”
Sacha looked at me, eyebrows raised in mild amusement.
“I should get going,” I said, needing to end this conversation before Sacha laughed out loud.
“I’ll see you later, Mrs. Klein!” I hurried out of the room, Sacha following behind me.
“Are all of your neighbours this invested in your well-being?” Sacha asked, his eyes
betraying the laugh he was trying to hide.   
“Just her,” I replied. “She knows the whole story about David.”
“Ah,” Sacha replied simply, stifling his laugh. “Nice lady, anyway.”
We were walking down the hallway back to the main elevator when my phone rang. It was Madison.
“Have you given any thought about Simon?” she asked without small talk.
I stopped midstride. Sacha paused as well and we both stood in the middle of the hallway.
“Uh…no. Should I? I thought you said I could think about it.”
“Well yeah. But he called me today, asking about you and when he could meet you.”
“He asked about me?” My voice rose up a few pitches. “Why would he ask about me?” I sensed Sacha watching me with curiosity, and I turned away to face the wall instead.
 “Well…” Madison hesitated. “When I initially met him, I sort of let slip that you were single and that I thought you two would hit it off.” She sighed quietly. “That was the only reason we exchanged numbers in the first place, Ells. I wouldn’t have otherwise. I mean, he’s a complete stranger, really.”
“You didn’t tell me that, Maddie.” I tried to keep my patience. “So now this guy’s expecting to meet me? Some complete stranger that you met?”
“Well, he seemed really nice, Ellie. And he gave me his business card, which I checked out on the internet. He seems legit. But if you want, I could call the whole thing off.”
I shook my head in frustration. “Geez Maddie. I don’t know what to think. Anyway, can I talk to you later about this? I’m just with Sacha right now.”
“Yeah, sure. Sorry Ellie. Call me later.” Madison replied in a low voice.
I hung up the phone.
“What was that all about?” Sacha asked.
I sighed. “Madison’s being…Madison.”
“Uh…okay. I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds like you’re in some kind of trouble.” Sacha paused, and then he peered at me strangely. “Madison’s not trying to hook you up with a loan shark or something, is she? Because honestly, if you need the cash, I can spot you, El.”
I gave Sacha a hard glare. “Really, Sacha. You do think highly of me sometimes.” I shook my head. “Madison’s just being a brat,” I muttered. “She’s trying to set me up with a stranger that she just met off the street.”
We walked the rest of the hallway, returning to the main lobby area. I pressed the elevator button.
“Ah, good to know it’s not the loan sharks,” said Sacha, “but just some unfortunate bachelor off the street. And you’re obviously hesitant.”
 “Of course I’m hesitant. I don’t know this guy. All I know is that his name is Simon and he works at a law firm. Would you go out with some stranger named Simon?”
 “Simon at a law firm,” Sascha repeated, a smirk creeping on his face. “Sounds…sexy,” Sacha joked. “Well, for a dorky name.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. The dorky part, anyway, I mentally thought.
“Well, you should at least meet the guy,” Sacha said, looking at me seriously. “If you’re…you know, desperate.” He looked at me ominously. “Maybe he’s The One.”
The elevator doors opened and we stepped in. There was already a man in it, dressed in a nice blue dress shirt and dark grey tie. I noticed that the elevator smelled much better than the musty lobby – like vanilla somehow. I pressed the button to my floor and scooted over to the side of the elevator to make room for Sacha.
Cognizant of the man in the elevator, I lowered my volume.
 “I’m not desperate. It’s only been two months. And who knows if there even is a One.”
“But you’ve always believed in things like true love and The One,” replied Sacha, his volume unchanged.
I flinched and decided that maybe it was best act nonchalant. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” I said, still trying to keep my volume low - but not too low as to sound secretive.  The elevator stopped at my floor, and we exited the elevator. When the doors closed behind us, I resumed my normal volume. “Especially since David left,” I added. "My faith's a bit shot right now." We walked the short stretch of hallway before stopping at my door. I reached for the keys in my bag and opened my door.
 MoMo was already waiting in the hallway, tail lifted up and head nuzzling against my leg. I leaned down to pet him.
“Well, just because David wasn’t The One doesn’t mean there isn’t a One,” Sacha reasoned.
“Right, and you’re such a big believer in The One, Sacha, what with you dating so many girls all the time.”
“Hey, you have your dating philosophy, and I have mine.”
“And are you happy?” I asked, studying him.
“Don’t I look happy?” he replied, deliberately putting on a stoic expression.
“Not like that, you don’t,” I laughed. “Here, let me get your drive.” I dropped my purse on the floor and went in search of Sacha’s portable hard drive.
“Hey, you’re right. Your place isn’t as messy as I imagined,” commented Sacha. “Except for all the nail polish bottles.” He picked one up off the floor. “‘Rescue Beauty Lounge’,” he read. “I like how this is marketed to make women feel like they have inadequate nails unless they paint them with this. Rescue in a bottle…man, I totally should have thought of it first.”
“Stop analyzing my stuff.” I handed Sacha his hard drive, squinting my eyes at him. People got free smiles at McDonald’s. Here at Ellie’s, people got free evil eyes. Especially Sacha.
“Sorry, occupational habit.”
“Did you want something to drink or eat?”
“Nah, I should get back. I’m meeting up with Deborah tonight. Thanks though.”
“Who’s that?”
“This girl I met at this networking function last month.”
“Ahhh,” I said, extending the word, eyeing Sacha with lifted brows. I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Okay then,” I said, too lazy to prod, “have fun with Deborah then.”
I had stopped keeping track of Sacha’s dating history since 2009. I promised myself that I would start keeping track again if any of his dates manage to pass the 3-month mark.
“So what are you going to tell Madison?” Sacha asked. “Are you going to meet this Simon?”
“I don’t know,” I pondered. “Maybe. I’ll see how I feel later,” I decided.
“And Ellie, your living room looks barren. When are you going to get a coffee table?”
“I dunno, Sacha,” I replied, giving him yet another evil glare, which was hopefully my last of the evening. “I’ll see how I feel later.”

Sunday, 12 February 2012

[Ellie's Story] Wanted: Roommate

Vancouver had warmed up significantly, hovering at a warm seven degrees underneath a thick cloud layer. I had spent my  Sunday morning grocery shopping, and ate a quick lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant a block away. Having put all of my groceries away and fed my cat MoMo, I now looked at the clock, wondering if there was anything else I needed to do right now other than do some light cleaning around the apartment. The clock read 1:46 pm – too early not to do some work. I made myself a cup of hot tea before looking around at the random stuff floating around my place. There were loose papers, cat toys, books, pens and pencils.
I walked around to the spare bedroom and was greeted by a large cardboard box standing in the corner, courtesy of my new TV that had arrived early last week. Right, I had forgotten about that. I smacked myself on the head. I had set up the television after it had arrived (which was easier than I thought, taking me only five minutes to read the set-up instructions, and another twenty minutes to plug in all of my cables – all without calling a guy for help).
All of the packaging cardboard was subsequently flattened, and placed into the spare bedroom for recycling disposal later – when I felt like taking it all downstairs. A full week later now, it was all still sitting there, since I hadn’t felt like taking it downstairs. I looked at the amount of carpet space that was being taken up in the spare bedroom and decided that I’d take it all down today. I took out the invoice/packing slip that was stuck on the outside of the box, and stacked it with the rest of my bills.
My stomach churned at the thought of paying those bills.
“Right, find a roommate. I still need to do that,” I said to myself. My head turned towards the computer. I guess I should go do some research.
 I turned on my computer and launched my browser. Google.ca came up, and my fingers held poised on top of my keyboard, my brain thinking of the correct words to type into the search field.
I entered: “roommate” and up popped “roommates Vancouver” by Google’s autofill. I clicked on it and up came some results for roommate finder services. I browsed the ones that were relevant, and thought about placing an ad with them for an available room. But, I thought, stopping myself, I need some photos of the place first. And I need to know what I’m looking for in a roommate.
I brought up Google again. I typed in “roommate interview questions/questionaire” and found some sources. I looked through the list, deciding that I wanted a:

1.)           Female
2.)           Non-smoker
3.)           No cat allergies
4.)           Someone Quiet
5.)           Preferably a Night Owl

Someone cool would be a bonus, I added mentally, before scoffing at myself. As if I could put that on an ad. Then I browsed Craigslist for info. I combed through rental listings, looking at photos and descriptions to see how much I could rent my room for. I finally decided that I could probably ask for $600 for my bedroom, utilities included, because I didn’t want to bother with potentially nickel and diming with my new roomie each month after the bills arrive.
I dug out my camera from the closet and moved out the empty TV cardboard box packaging into the hallway. With the spare room now empty, I opened the blinds and snapped some photos of it with the natural outdoor light flowing in. I shuffled all of the cardboard back into the spare room afterwards and looked at my living room area...which was not at all photogenic at this point in time. I put away a lot of the piles of papers and extra items that were floating about, placing them in the empty room for now, beside the cardboard.
Like an interior decorator, I fluffed my sofa cushions and adjusted the blinds and curtains. I desperately wished that I had a coffee table, because my living room looked a bit sparse without it. I moved my floor lamp over a bit, hoping that it would take up some of the empty floor space. Oh well, I thought, and I snapped some more photos. I cleaned up the kitchen space and took some more photos.
 Satisfied with what I had, I uploaded my photos and posted my ad online:

Cute Bedroom for Rent Downtown - $600

- Unfurnished room available immediately 
- Approx 150 sq. ft.
- Close to Skytrain, bus routes, and shopping
- Utilities, cable, internet included

I’m a working professional in my mid-20’s, and a cat owner. I enjoy having friends over sometimes, but typically spend my weeknights quietly. Tendency to be a night owl. Looking for a non-smoking female roommate with similar habits and personality who is not opposed to living with a friendly cat. I am generally a tidy person, looking for someone equally clean, who will share responsibilities for the two-bedroom apartment. Please email or call for additional details.

With the ad posted on both Craigslist and Kijiji, I then also printed off a hard copy to post in the building’s bulletin board. I turned off my computer, feeling pleased with myself. At least I’ve been productive today. Now, I can finally relax.
I sat on my sofa, and turned on my new television. I was so happy to finally have a working TV set, which looked good on my TV stand too. MoMo jumped up to sit beside me and I smiled, finally being able to enjoy watching TV with my cat again. MoMo purred, his mood reflecting my contentment. I lifted my eyes up to the screen, ready to enjoy whatever was on.
The screen showed a couple in an apartment hugging. I didn’t recognize the show. The man was apologizing for something that he had done, and the woman had obviously forgiven him. The man then lifted her chin gently and kissed her. Their kiss deepened and quickly turned into a full out make-out session. I frowned and flipped the channel.  The screen showed an episode of Sex and the City. I watched as Mr. Big and Carrie cuddled in bed, both of them naked under the covers. Still frowning, I flipped the channel again. The screen showed a large diamond ring being slipped onto a woman’s finger.
“Make her yours this Valentine’s Day,” said the commercial’s voice-over.
I hit the power button. “Ugh, Valentine’s Day already,” I muttered.
And then I realized that this was the first year in a long time that I was actually single on Valentine’s Day. I had absolutely no plans, and no one to even buy a cheesy card for.
The thought was strangely liberating and depressing at the same time. Unwittingly, I wondered what David would be doing this Valentine’s day. Would he be alone like me, or….
My throat tightened. I didn’t want to finish my thought.
Thoroughly disenchanted, I got up to the fridge and whipped out my bucket of Breyers Double Churn ice cream. I filled up a big bowl and searched for the Women’s Health magazine that I had bought today at the grocery store. Carrying the ice-cream and magazine, I sat back on the sofa beside the now-sleeping MoMo and ate a large spoonful double-churned chocolate goodness. I let the smooth creamy blob melt on my palate, and started reading an article on heart health. Emotionally-speaking, I could totally handle this topic.
 Halfway into reading the article, my phone buzzed. I checked my message.

            Madison: I met a cute guy today ;)

I sighed. “Thanks, Miss Hotstuff. And why are you telling me for?” I grumbled out loud. I paused, realizing that maybe I was more bitter about being alone this Valentine’s Day than I cared to admit. Nevertheless, I replied to her text, putting aside my personal feelings for her sake.

Me: That’s great!
Madison: And we chatted…and I have his number ;)
Me: You’re crazy!

I hit send. Then my brow twitched. I typed out some more.

Me: But you already have Bryant. What are you trying to do?

My phone rang thirty seconds later.
“Oh my gosh, Ellie. I can’t believe you think I’m going to like, cheat on Bryant or something. I was talking about you! I totally picked up this guy for you. You know, now that you’re single.” Madison spoke, partly irritated, partly excited. “You have to meet him. He’s cute, he’s tall, he works at a law firm...”
I scrunched my face. “Geez, Madison. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. I’m still kind of fresh from my breakup with David. It’s only been two months.”
“I’m not asking you to be serious or anything, Ellie. Just meet him. And if it’s something more, then you’ll naturally be ready for it.”
I groaned audibly, for Madison’s benefit. “I will think about it, okay?”
“Don’t think too long. This one’s a good one, trust me. If you don’t jump now, he’ll be snatched up soon. And probably by some bimbo with huge boobs.”
“Then that’s fine. It means it wasn’t meant to be,” I reasoned. “I wouldn’t want a guy who falls for a booby bimbo anyway.”
“You have to take matters into you own hands, Ellie!” Madison sighed loudly. “Okay fine, think about it, and let me know. But soon,” she emphasized. “I don’t want to call him a month later and have to explain who I am and how he met me.”
“Okay, okay. I will think about it and let you know soon, I promise.” I briefly looked heavenward. “And thanks,” I added, my voice softening, “for thinking of me.”
“You’re welcome,” Madison replied, her irritation leaving her. “You’re my bestie. You know I want the best for you.”
“I know,” I said. “And you are the best, Bestie.”
“Okay, I gotta go, Ells. Bryant’s here. We’ll chat about this later.”
I hung up the phone with Madison, smiling to myself. It was nice to have great friends who cared. I thought about Madison’s offer, and wondered if she was right – that if I did find a guy that I clicked with, I would just naturally be “ready”.
Ready? I asked myself. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even watch TV without being reminded of David. What makes me think that I was ready to start dating?

Sunday, 8 January 2012

[Ellie's Story] Broke 'n' Down


       The holidays were officially over. The Christmas decorations at work and all around the stores and streets have been taken down and everyone was moving with a duller energy typical of any other winter day. I had also taken down my mini Christmas tree and the strings of lights around my apartment window. I remembered that it had only been two months ago when David and I had put everything up, in early celebration of our first Christmas in our new place. 
       How things have changed in a mere sixty days.
       With all of the Christmas decorations in a 30” x 30” moving box (miraculously, with the tree included), I shoved it over to the corner of the spare bedroom, which was still largely unfurnished. It was supposed to have been David’s  home office since he usually brought a lot of work home. All that was left in there now was a small shelf that had originally belonged to me. David had taken everything else with him after our breakup.
       Our breakup had felt like a divorce. After having been together for seven years and living together for almost a year, our lives were so intertwined amongst our family, friends and even personal belongings, that our breakup had felt like tearing off limbs in the separation process. It definitely tore off pieces of our hearts, along with our mutual trust. At least, it did on my part.   
I dusted off my hands, closed the door to the spare bedroom and evaluated the rest of my apartment. David had taken the black glass-top coffee table, the matching dining table set, and a large mahogany bookcase. I was left with our charcoal loveseat, a small hallway shelf and our TV stand – minus the TV. David had taken that too. All that was left on the TV stand was my Playstation 3, along with a few games, and some DVDs and CDs.
I walked over to the window and peeked out through my blinds. It was grey outside, the thick clouds preventing the evening sun from penetrating through. The Italian restaurant across the street was already starting to receive early dinner patrons, dining leisurely before spending what was most likely their Saturday night out on the town.
 I had also kept the floor lamp in our “divorce”, which I now turned on. It lit my small two-bedroom apartment with a cozy warm glow, making it feel less empty than it was. Now that I was officially single, I spent most of my weekends at home. The past few weekends alone had entailed me cleaning up the place, packing up any residual things of David’s and dealing with the legal paperwork of changing the apartment’s ownership to my name, mortgage and all. Some of the paper copies were still on the kitchen counter. I hadn’t had the emotional energy to put that away yet. At the top of the pile was a thick brown envelope from the law firm – in it, I knew, were the final copies of the signed papers, stating my ownership of this apartment.
I sighed inwardly, knowing that I should be putting that all away safely somewhere. I walked over, picking up the brown envelope – still unopened, and put in it in my purse, where I decided would drop it into my safety deposit box at the bank tomorrow. My eyes glanced toward the paper pile again, noting the small sheet of scrap paper that now sat at the top. I picked it up, reading the numbers scrawled on it in my handwriting:

Monthly Budget
               
Salary minus deductions: $2217
Mortgage payment: $1470
Maintenance fees: $260
Telephone: $32
            Cable & Internet: $75
            Utilities: $82
Cell Phone Bill: $65
Typical Groceries: $180
            Balance Remaining: $53
 
I remembered this to be the balance sheet that I had written over a month ago, after the initial shock of the breakup with David was over. I had panicked then about whether or not I could afford to keep the apartment. I had figured at the time that without David, I could probably cancel our landline and reduce our cable and internet bill usage. Even utilities would be slightly less since I wouldn’t be using as much electricity as the two of us combined, especially now that his home office was gone. I put the scrap of paper down and looked at my credit card bills which were sitting on top of my counter.
“Now’s as good a time as ever,” I muttered to myself. “Might as well deal with all the bad stuff in one shot.”
I opened my Visa bill and peeked at my balance: $305.86.
“Not bad,” I told myself. I moved onto my Mastercard bill. And gasped.
Balance: $979.36        

“Crap!” I yelled. What the heck did I buy this month?  My eyes scrolled down the itemized list of stores. I mentally rehashed what I bought at each location. Dinner, luxury bath soap, blue sweater, lunch, coffee, china tea set, jeans on sale, matching top, dinner again, new vacuum cleaner, groceries, nail polish…
“Oh right,” I groaned. “I was Christmas shopping all last month.”   
I sat down on my sofa and looked around my empty apartment. “And I still have all this stuff to buy!” I groaned to myself. What was I going to do?
I picked up my cell phone and texted my best friend Madison. “Going to be broke on a single income. Save me,” I typed.
“Hey, u get paid more than I do,” she texted back a couple of minutes later.
“I’m stuck, with D gone,” I replied. My phone bleeped again.
“Wanna talk over brunch tomorrow?”
“Yes. Where and when?”
“Call ya tmrw ;)”
I put my phone down and breathed a sigh of relief. My dear Madison would know what to do.
             .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 
I met with Madison on Sunday morning at a quiet place called Arm’s Reach in North Vancouver. She had to visit her parents and was in that area anyway. I hadn’t been in North Vancouver in a while, so I didn’t mind making the Seabus trip across the Burrard Inlet. Madison picked me up from the Seabus terminal and drove us to Arm’s Reach, where we sat by the window seat. The morning sun was out in full force and we could feel its welcome heat on our paled winter faces.
By now, Madison’s summer freckles had lightened on her porcelain skin, and the sunlight made her almond-shaped light brown eyes appear even lighter. Her light brown hair shimmered with the tiniest hint of strawberry blonde. I smiled at the friend I’ve known since elementary school. There were times that Madison didn’t even look half Chinese. Sometimes I had to remember that she was, even though I’ve known her forever.  
I ordered my usual (and my favourite): Eggs Benedict. I decided that getting a bit of comfort food would be good today.
Waiting for our orders, Madison and I juggled with my options after I told her that I might be facing a fifty-three dollar balance at the end of each month. I didn’t even want to tell her how bad my credit card bills looked.
“Could you get a roommate?”
“Like who? Some stranger?  That would be difficult.” I shook my head. “Unless you’d want to be my roommate?” I looked at her with my best puppy-dog-eyes expression.
“Aw, Ellie. Don’t do that to me. You know my piddly salary. I wouldn’t be able to afford sharing your rent downtown. Rooming with my cousin on the east side is hard enough, even with the family discount.”
I stared out at the beautiful view of Deep Cove, allowing my thoughts to drift out with the flowing waves of Burrard Inlet.
“Is there any way that you could spend less? Don’t go out so much?”
I looked at Madison. “That would be no fun. My job requires de-stressing.”
She evaluated me for a bit before responding. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re quite the active gal. Asking you to stay home all day is like asking your cat to ignore catnip.”
I laughed. “C’mon! I’m not that severe. Mo is addicted to catnip like a heroin addict. Unlike him, I have some self control.”
“Is that with the video games or the eating out that you’re talking about?” Madison replied, with a twinkle in her eye.
I slumped my shoulders and squinted my eyes at her in mock evil, acknowledging her point. “Both,” I retorted. “I’m a girl with many interests, okay?”
Madison smiled sweetly. “I know. That’s why we’re friends.”
Our server arrived with our food, and I whole-heartedly immersed myself in my Eggs Benedict, allowing the taste of the special house Hollandaise sauce to distract me from my troubles.
“Could your parents help you?”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to ask…I am an adult. I should really try to be independent. They already helped with some of the down payment, which I promised I’d pay back one day. I couldn’t ask them for more. In fact, I should be paying them a monthly family allowance, if I was a good Chinese daughter.” I chewed hard on my hash brown. “Which I’m apparently not,” I added ruefully.
“I understand.” She sighed. “Well then that settles it,” she said, taking a large bite out of her grilled chicken sandwich. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to get yourself a roommate.”
I swallowed my hash brown with a large gulp of water, seeing the pragmatic expression on Madison’s face and knowing deep down that she was right.
I sighed. First my mom, and now my best friend.
Why were people always right?!

 - To Be Continued -