Julie

Okay, so for class we had to write something describing someone. I had just talked to Julie, so this is kind of, vaguely, like Julie. Nothing is meant to be malicious or anything. Some of it is vastly exaggerated. Is that how you spell exaggerated?

One of Julie’s favorite things to do was to fantasize about kissing boys, but once she actually kissed them, she no longer liked them very much. The kisses usually occurred wet and drunk on her doorstep (why was it always raining when boys decided to kiss her?), or sweaty and drunk at a party, and neither of these was very appealing. Besides, she didn’t want to give up her autonomy, though autonomy was not a word she actually used herself, being a word of the feminist rhetoric, which she so despised. Julie was not entirely sure what this “autonomy,” or “freedom” was composed of, but it didn’t actually matter because she never got to the point of having a relationship with anyone. Another one of her favorite things to do was make piles. She made piles of everything, of books, of papers, and the dirty clothes weren’t quite dirty enough to put in the laundry. In her childhood room the piles would become as tall as she was and her room began to appear mountainous. Every so often she would try and clean out these piles, but once she un-stacked everything it appeared like more, and so she would simply restack it all. She tries not to do this in her new apartment, her first apartment, with a tiny little room with a window that looks out to a brick wall. This is the best part of her new apartment, the brick wall feels symbolic of something, but she isn’t sure what.