Let’s face it, the three of us are weird.
Weird makes for gossip.
Weird is also something interesting to look at.
And beyond us being three ‘weirdos’, we are weirdly different from each other.
Truth:
Each of us has embraced our own unique strangeness—our own awkwardness—but only we know how weird we are.
It doesn’t show that much. Believe me.
Truth be told, the Sea Breezers aren’t that off‑target. We hardly look like a believable best‑friends match.
Lenny—Finicky, rich, preppy, porcelain-pale, polished, meek, scholarly, and very privileged—though humble.
Dez – me. “Café au lait” best describes me, both in skin hue and favorite food—cappuccino being my staple, which, along with all things mocha and caramel, forms the base of my “healthy food” pyramid. I’m a foodie. When I’m not cooking or munching, I’m writing.
I write, and I write—but I don’t see myself blowing another book deal down any time soon.
I’m a writer. I’ve worked endlessly over the years to refine my writing. It’s still all over the place.
Needs refining.
I tried to refine my appearance, too.
No matter what I do, I always come across as a disheveled bohemian.
Maybe because I only wear organic cotton, dress in layers, and look like the stereotyped crazy artist type?
My hair? Hard to manage. Wild, long, black, strong, smooth, thick, and wiry.
How wiry? Wiry enough to look like a cascade of ultra‑thick pubic hair unless I apply an entire grove of mashed coconuts to it. 🥥 🥥 🥥 🥥🥥🥥 🥥 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴
My hair overpowers everything.
Wild—like my laugh.
Yep. Hair and laugh read as “inappropriate.”
They need refinement.
Those two features alone could scare off any man. Scary—like the sparkle in my eyes.
I think it must be just the lighting, but some people say my eyes hold a wild glint. Isn’t that a reassuring package deal?
People stare sometimes when they think I’m not looking. I suspect sometimes that they even step away at the first opportunity—considering me formidable—as if I might bite.
I look like the untamable rebel.
But I don’t bite.
My personality? The opposite of what my appearance conveys.
If only people knew…
I’m as gentle and patient as they come. Quite the doormat.
Give me a notebook and a pen, and I’m in bliss.
My look? I never stylized it; it’s genetic, hard to manage, and very typecasting.
I take after my mother:
My mother, Dahlia. The formidable dark‑haired femme fatale who looks like a pirate queen, laughs too loudly, and whenever she feels like it. That ‘whenever’ can be awkward, trust me. Both of us - mother and daughter - Dahlia and Dez- are forever in heavy eyeliner. But my mother draws it on with passion —too heavily. She is The Queen of Kohl.
And now that I’ve introduced myself, I must describe Cal…
Cal is gorgeous but fierce-looking.
She was big-haired but then went bantu and now wears a shaved look—with very artistic shave patterns.
Last week it was a constellation. She is a true artist. What can I say?
Cal = Tall. Statuesque. Carries the earthy hues and aura of freshly ground coffee. ‘Fiercely Female’—very curvy and with very high-gloss, chocolate-colored skin.
She is the definition of leonine.
And carries the stature and regal bearing of a queen. You know, composed.
Between us…you would never suspect it but composure is a learned thing for her… That ‘secret’ doesn’t show, trust me.
See, I can’t do that… you know, ‘learn’ composure.
I’m all over the place.
Cal can switch into composed mode in seconds.
She has mastered the art of suppressing her drama queen self, making it lie in wait silently within, allowed to emerge only when necessary.
The three of us met while I was studying literature, Len was studying history, and Cal was juggling fine arts and business at college.
Cal was determined from her first semester at the university to build a career in the art world, with a gallery of her own to represent the bold, edgy rebel artists.
She looks so high-end, but she really is a very ‘underground’ and ‘rebellious’ person—siding with the ‘outsiders’ always. But she is business-minded. How hybrid is that?
The three of us?
A team.
- The Aristocrat Scholar
- the She-Pirate Writer/Dreamer
- the Bold Art World Rebel Queen.
The Unlikelies that are linked for life.
End of interlude—
I really strayed off topic, didn’t I?
I started writing about the Bridges—the mailman and his yodeling wife entering the grounds—
and somehow ended up describing us three.
See what I mean? My writing is all over the place.