Stardust Memory Detectives and the Meaning of Cheese

Watching I <3 Huckbees and laughing so loudly even my Father came to see what the fuss was about. What a concept! Existential detectives! It reminded me of living in Kitsalino and hanging around with that madwoman Lise, Queen of New Age Therapy, whose ministrations to herself kept many a quack in food, shelter and glitteries while bankrupting a perfectly good jewellery business. If there was a Counsellor, quack or Contrarian promoting better spirituality through flaggelation, Lise would be striped.

Fey fey fey. But oh, how I laughed.
See one, play one. Takes one to know one.
Oh, how I laughed.

I lived in the Sir Galahad apartments. That was half the charm of being there. I had a corner suite that looked out over Broadway. It was a really cool spot to be. Across the street were Veterans Housing Buildings. I had an old couple who had there television set in the window who would sit looking across the street into my place while pretending to watch television. Folks, the binoculars were a dead give-away.

The neighbourhood was full of people with too much money and not much sense. You could be regressed to a past life on one corner and coloniced on the next. University students rented all the basement apartments in the area and pot mixed in the air with incense.

I had been kicked out of my own highly desirable basement suite for being promiscuous.My Landlord believed that everyone who came to my place was a lover. Now at that time I was living a rather rock and roll life. Well, not rock and roll exactly more like punk and puke.
The puke was me after a few drinks. I never could drink successfully.
The punk was me too. Arrested development.

My day job was very VERY lucrative. My night job was just for fun. And sleep was something other people did. I had weeks where I went 24/7 more than 3 out of 7 days and continued to work and appear completely normal-to-me. Can't say I miss it. It was more fall-out from being stupidhead. Manic depression without the depression? Full blown mania? Nah, just an adrenilin disorder but a spectacular one. So I would bring a few intelligent people home with me because otherwise it would mean a sleazy hotel room. People on the road never seem to stay at decent hotels. I had all kinds of people sipping single malt and dissecting life in that basement suite. But bad landlord got the wrong idea so it was only right and proper that I move to the Galahad. Redemption through the Grail.

The Sir Galahad was not without it's pecadilloes. There was the really cute guy who lived in the ground floor bachelor. He would position himself outside the laundry room and comment quietly as I walked by. I never quite knew what to make of him. He was a fan anyway. There was the Lesbian couple on the first floor who were routinely harassed by the Manager who lived across the hall from them. There was the olde Grand Dame in the Penthouse who had been there for 25 years. And there was me.

I had a crazy neighbour who smoked in our non-smoking building. He would invite his girlfriend over and they would tie one on and fight loudly for hours before making loud crazy love and bang against my bedroom walls. Whee. (gag)

Lise was coming over to get me and we were going to see Midnight Oil. I was all glammed up and ready to go when I had an attack. She knocked on the door and I could not speak... so she came in. I think she thought I was overdosing or something at first and then she remembered I was Suzy Straight. ("Don't give that to her! ... don't go near her with that stuff... you don't understand... she TOTALLY doesn't do that. I mean TOTALLY.") I remember her leaning over me dressed in paisley smelling of hashish and wearing 4 crosses.
"BREATHE, just BREATHE."

Lise had a breath therapist. She had a guitar teacher. She had a voice coach. Lise had a Cousellor for her eating disorder and a shame counsellor and someone to balance her shakras, someone to paint mandellas with her, a person who talked her to death about her need for perfection and another for her addictions... but no Counsellor to wean her off Counsellors. That took a very cute younger man who worked at the Bookstore and dabbled in Magicks.
She gave up the Counsellors and he the mysticism and they lived happily ever after... or at least until I finish this little memory.

I loved Lise because she was full of life and fun. When things went bad for me and I had my own personal stalker she was the sole person who told me not to move. "DONT YOU DARE let that rat bastard wreck your life. You are allowed to choose for yourself." I didn't move. He stopped stalking me and Lise was my close friend become closer.

Now Rock and Roll heaven is no haven and some people fall for all the pixiedust crap.
Lise got dusted and the next thing you know there was cocaine and heroin along with the pot. I really am Suzy Straight. Once is an error. Twice an unfortunate coincidence but three times in my presence on heavy stuff and bye bye. For anyone else that rule would be twice. But I loved Lise. Just not the enhanced version. She really believed she would be onstage with Jane's Addiction. She really saw herself as the next best possible thing. Just.... drugs, baby, drugs.

Even Sir Galahad couldn't rescue our friendship from that one. She was pretty mad at me for that and took solice by befriending a younger prettier richer blonder version best friend.
My replacement had a rock and roll boyfriend, a solid membership in "THE CLUB" and was a righteous snob poser bitch. I pretended for old times sake but honestly... it was sad.
So the merry-go-round continued until Lise was broke. Then the Bookstore guy was her rehab. As far as I know she didn't break out on any scene. Sheryl Crow took her slot.

I can still see her and I arguing over some stupidass thing or other at an outside cafe.
There is a scene in the I <3 Huckabees where they hit each other with a stupid ball until they have a moment of nothingness. The two guys so desparate to find *it* .....that was Lise all right.

Huckabees made me laugh and laugh. I saw myself more than anything else.
How silly. I miss Lise. I never spoke to her again after a very unladylike encounter.
Addicts should never call anyone else out on a memory. They usually get it wrong.
Lise got it very wrong. Alas, I am not flexible in certain departments.

Seeing those silly detectives took me right back. It was stardust and moonbeams for awhile. I wish you happiness Lise. I wish you peace of mind and contentment. And I hope you look back at me and laugh too.