dibs on a bottle of wine

I’ve been thinking here for a minute about how I could start the “new journal” in a more uncomfortable way. Sharing something dishonourable seems like a better way to do it. I am staying at the shared house on Oahu island right now to do research for the coliving experience project I’m working on. I am lucky with the crowd in the house, there are only beds for ten people, there are seven guests in the house right now, including me. Everyone is unique and has their reason for coming to the island, and there are not that many surfers, surprisingly. I’m not necessarily enjoying the group, but happy that everyone is sane and safe, from what it appears. I could classify the seven guests into three personality types.

The first one is my favourite – “just minding their own business and enjoying themselves.” They are open to small talk and sharing, but they usually attend to their needs and focus on work. Some stay in their rooms all the time. The second type is called “curious.” It’s just one girl who asks me questions whenever she sees me, and then follow-ups. My least favourite sequence of questions, that usually starts with “Where are you from?” and “What do you do?” This second type is also cool, and I might have liked that girl the most in the group.

The third type I’ll call “exquisite” is just one person for now once again. I hope JC doesn’t read living authors, I don’t want him to feel bad, but I couldn’t wait for him to leave, although he was super nice to me, and popular with the rest of the group. The loudness he makes, never-ending “what’s ups” and “this is the best!” and my favourite, “ugh, this is exquisite!”. His performance reminds me of the character from Ilf and Petrov novel “The Twelve Chairs,” Ellochka, who is portrayed as a vulgar socialite who has only 30 words in her vocabulary and uses them all the time.

I doubt that brewing tea with a kitchen sink drainer is anything “exquisite,” but JC was helpful for both my research and aid my writing inspiration. As he left today, I no longer have to wear headphones all day, so I wouldn’t need to discuss his favourite highlights from “A Moveable Feast” and marketing books from the mid-twentieth century. It brings me to the “uncomfortable part.” The guest who came the same day as me left a bottle of wine, and now that JC is gone, I’ll exercise my “finders keepers” to celebrate the tranquillity around.