Tales of a Head Case...

Hello everyone! I hope these days of merriment, joy and family time are treating you well.

I took a day or so off because I wanted to introduce a new addition to Head Cases:

Tales of a Head Case

Tales of a Head Case will be an ongoing series here are at Head Cases for your guilty pleasures. It's the fictional stories (some not so fictional but hey, you'll just have to guess) of Leslie and her friends, of the 20-somethings today trying to live with the right, make it in the day and try not to blame their parent's generation as much as their parents blamed theirs. It's the realization that at the end of day we all want love, we all want success and we ALL become Head Cases going for it...

Ladies and Gentlemen, Tales of a Head Case By M.

"We haven't even hugged yet"

ding, ding, ding. Leslie struggled to reach for her buzzing blackberry without dropping her iPod. Bundled in 5-7 layers (she had lost count after 4), her fingers were still borderline numb beneath her glove-mitten combination hand gear and this made expediting this task rather difficult. Earlier that year Leslie had chosen to take her 24 year old self and pack up for New York city. What she didn't intend on was the full adjustment to seasons.

Finally willing to sacrifice her fingers for "human" contact, she peeled off her glove and checked her messenger. It was her best friend Danielle, who at times could be more like an actual lesbian girlfriend minus the sex but with all the dependency at times but was also one of the most genuine people Leslie had ever encountered. Leslie could already predict Danielle was either bored or having an anxiety fit.

Danielle: Soooo
Leslie: Soooo what's up?
Danielle: Well you know how I told you I had started talking to Mark recently?

Well, clearly the latter, now this is the part where Leslie would have to shift through all the people Danielle mentions once and the ones she was supposed to automatically KNOW to commit to memory. Mark, however, was easy to remember. An often sought-after, notorious Hollywood pretty face who's buildup of admirers was only match by the number of stories Leslie had heard of how "He looked at me!"

Danielle: I'm sooo used to talking to Mark everyday...and today is the first day I haven't talked to him nor has he hit me all day
Leslie: Don't do this. Let's see if u can predict what I'm gonna say
Danielle: I know...I'm dwelling way too much
Leslie: Dwelling? Bitch its the day before his birthday. Maybe he has people in town, maybe he's handling last minute details. What is wrong wit you?
Danielle: I'm much too available. I'm having too much anxiety and I need to breathe.

Leslie thanked her stars that this conversation was not face to face because she was completely unable to keep a straight face with the Dr. Phil jargon coming from her 25 year old friend. But Danielle was like a Park Place Head Case, like Charlotte from Sex and the City. You know the type: cutely naiive, always over-analyzing and at times (more often than not) sweeping emotions under the rug. But they are such hopeless good hearts you can't help but love the sweet, specialness of it all.

Danielle: It prolly isn't even about me. Nope...he's away had said pissed-all that glitters ain't gold
Leslie: What? It said what?

Could away messages truly be entered in as evidence now? Do they hold up in court? Leslie wondered.

Danielle: Pissed-all that glitters aint gold. But imma stop
Leslie: And you think its about you?
Danielle: I mean I have no reason to think that....but you know me and how I dwell. Last nite we had a good convo.
Leslie: I can't take you. Lol Danielle, has it been 24 hrs even?
Danielle: Nope whatever you love me. Your like my therapist I swear so I have to tell u these things.
Leslie: Glad to oblige. ;P
Danielle: Just always be my therapist
Leslie: Always...:*

As she completed her walk from the train to her stoop, Leslie contemplated on how much she could charge for her advice. A Dear John, no Julie, column perhaps in the Times. But just as she reached her door she felt the vibrations of her ring tone. "I kissed a girl! And I lik-ted it.."

"Hey woman!" she said having seen her girl Brittany's face on the caller ID.

"Girl. I have dramz for you! Guess who your ex's new girlfriend is?!" Brittany exclaimed before pleasantries. 3000 miles and a number change apparently could not remove her from him. Now who would be her therapist?