I Have A Problem Trusting Men, But Can I Trust You, Billie?, chapter 7
One Month Later.
Mid-May 2007.
Staring out of my window
Watching the cars go rolling by
My friends are gone
I've got nothing to do
The light outside of my window dimmed as a cloud eclipsed the sun temporarily from entering my room. My head rested comfortably atop my arms as I stared at the ceiling to my room.
I stared blankly into the eyes of countless pictures of Joe Strummer. Tim Armstrong, Freddie Mercury, and Debbie Harry among countless others, all staring back at me. I watched my cellphone, which surprisingly hasn't rung all day, rise and fall in time with my chest. I sighed. Today could not be any more of a waste of time.
I looked out of my window again and stared at the amazingly perfect day that was practically screaming at me to go outside and be free. I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to blot out the perfect, 'Sound of Music' type day outside and focused on the music that was flowing from my stereo.
***
My dad's voice lulled me into some musical euphoric state. I almost drifted to sleep when I felt my bed shift. The scent of his familiar cologne filled my nostrils, not choking but certainly not mistakable. I opened my eyes in time to see my dad fall back onto my mattress in a similar position as me, staring at my cieling.
"What's up, girl?" asked my adoptive father.
"The ceiling and the sky and probably some undiscovered planet in outerspace," I replied dryly.
"Jeez, someone's grumpy."
"Nope, bored shitless."
"Well, blasting Christie Road at a decibel so loud that I'm sure pigmes in New Guinea can hear isn't gonna help."
"I think it will."
"Why don't you call Bobbye or Amelia?"
"Bobbye's visiting her grandparents in Houston, and Spike is stuck with Mr. Clean again. Spud got grounded because she ran up the phone bill talking to Zacky all the time, and Frank's been either elusive or at band practice."
Yes people, Spud finally got the nerve to call Zacky, and the two hit it off really well. If Zacky doesn't ask her out really soon, then I'll be in shock. The same cannot be said for Mr. Iero and myself. Since that trip to the mall last month, he's been avoiding me. God, men can be so damn confusing.
"Sorry, baby. I can't be of much help, I'm in the same predicament."
"What about Mom?"
"She's having a girly spa day with Adie."
We both shuddered at the thought of a girly spa day. I'm not the, 'let's get pampered' type of girl. And since when did Adie and Mom get along? Isn't there some unwritten code that states that the former wife and future wife of a man getting along, and dare I say, hanging out completely out of protocol?
"Yeah, Adie and Dez get along good now. I never really had a problem with Adie, we just sorta fell out, not like it was an angry divorce or anything. Dez went to Adie's one day to drop off the boy's, and they just clicked."
"Strange."
"Ditto. So you wanna do something?"
He stared at me and displayed his inhuman skill of melting anyone's heart with that evil puppy dog look. Damn his big, green eyes. I swear his face changes from thirty-five years old to that of a three year old's in a matter of seconds.
"What's your plan, then?"
"We could: A, go to the mall, and you can be entertained by watching me get mauled by hundreds of twelve year olds. B, do the tourist thing and hang at Berkeley Square or eat at that kick ass Asian restaraunt on Clement Street or C, try and attempt surfing."
"I'll pass."
The image of Dad running for his life from a bunch of twelve year old teenies made me laugh, but is actually a scary thing to see. The restaraunt idea was good, I'm starved, but there's tons of paparazzi on Clement Street these days, and surfing? That's not even going to merit a second thought.
"Fine, have it your way. Oh, how about I call Uncle Tre and Mike, and you can come down to the studio with us and hear three new songs that'll most likely be on the new album?"
I practically jumped out of bed at that new suggestion. Hear the new material that could be Green Day's newest masterpiece? How could you pass that up? I may be his adoptive daughter now, but I was a Green Day fan first and foremost.
"I'll take that little reflex as a yes. I'm going downstairs to call 'em. You get dressed."
"Thank you!"
I squeezed him tightly to show him how much it meant to me, as if he didn't already know.
"No prob, Ash. I need some good constructive criticism and who better to ask?"
He laughed and closed the door, leaving me to throw on some clothes. The only thing I did do to make myself look halfway decent was my hair. Did you actually think I was just going to go to the studio where a certain uberly sexy bassist named Mike Dirnt is going to be with boredom bed head? 'Cha right.
***
After straightening my now shorter, cut to my shoulders, and freshly dyed, green streaks in the front, (think Rogue from the X-Men) hair, I ran downstairs and almost into Dad.
"You're not even going to stop and eat the lunch I spent most of the day attempting to make?" he asked me in a desperate housewife voice.
"Oh fine, where is it?"
He looked at me and burst into laughter. Was it really that funny?
"Damn, you really are to naïve for your own good. You actually think I'd actually cook something?"
"Hey, you might've gained some Emeril-like skills from being with my mom."
"If that were so..."
"Shut up, let's just go."
"Right-o."
He grabbed the keys to his black BMW, and we drove off. I swear to God, if I have to sit in another damn Beemer, I'm gonna scream. Dad's got one. Mike's got one, (note to self: do not skip a ride in that BMW), Frank has one, Tre's thinking of getting a Beemer SUV, Dad bought Mom a silver one, and Adie's got a red one. If it weren't for most of the people I know, BMW would be out of business.
***
We pulled up to 880 studios in Oakland and got out of that horrid machine. We walked inside and Dad and John (Roecker, the mastermind behind most projects here at 880) talked for a little bit, then we headed down to the studio designated for Green Day.
***
Mike was sprawled out on the sofa with, shock among shocks, a frappucino! Tre was running in circles around his drumset.
"Hola, peoples!" I shouted loud enough to get the older men's attention.
Mike got up and did that 'brotha' handshake thing with Dad and hugged me. Oh, the joys of being an Armstrong. Tre was still running around in circles but started to sing D.U.I.
Let's get drunk and go out driving...
"Tre!" shouted both Mike and Dad.
I was too busy laughing to yell with them. Tre wound up tripping over one of the various amplifier chords that scattered the floor of the studio and got tangled in his high-hat. Mike and Dad went to go help him while I helped myself to their mini-fridge.
Mike always has it stocked with frappucino's while Dad and Tre with Bud.
I grabbed my usual, vanilla, and sat on the sofa which was previously occupied by Mike. After about twenty minutes of Tre fixing his high-hat, Mike tuning his bass, and Dad tuning his Les Paul, they were finally ready to play.
"Okay, this first song's called..."
Do you actually think I'm going to tell you the name's of three songs that may or may not be on Green Day's next album or how it sounds? I'm sworn to secrecy, and you'll just have to wait and buy it to find out.
So basically, the next half hour I was in awe at the total badassness of those tracks. When they finished up, we all decided to go eat at this little hole-in-the-wall café down the block.
***
Dad and I wound up getting home around eight. Adie and Mom were joking around and making fun of the 'hungry hingry models' on E!.
"Hey, babe. Adie."
"Hey, Billie. You and Ash have fun?"
"Yeah, Mom. They showed me three of their newest songs they've been working on."
"That's awesome."
"How was the spa?" I asked, genuinely interested.
"Good, relaxation is what Adie and I both needed."
"Yeah, especially the hot masseuse guys," stated Adie matter-o'-factly.
"Really?" I asked, now extremely interested.
"Hot masseuse guys?" questioned Dad threateningly.
"Oh honey, not as hot as you," said Mom in an attempt to save her ass.
"I beg to differ," retorted Adie.
I started to laugh. How more awkward-funny could this situation get? These are the moments where I love my life.
"Fine, I'll take my sexy ass somewhere else."
And with that, Dad walked away and into his office, swaying his hips violently with every step. He looked like a transvestite streetwalker.
"Good Riddance, and I hope you had the time of your life," joked Adie, using his own lyrics out of context, thus creating the ultimate burn.
I practically fell to the floor in a fit of laughter. Mom ran after him jokingly like she was a desperate patron, and Adie just rolled her eyes in that, 'I was married to that' sort of way.
After recovering from my outburst, I sat on the sofa bside Adie and changed the channel to FUSE. An old SURS episode was on featuring My Chemical Romance. I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to watch the 'cause of most of my frustration at this point.
"So, how are you and Frank?"
Was it really so obvious? Well, Adie has been around a lot lately and probably hinted on the serious 'Frank' vibes that surround me. That, and my mom has the biggest mouth in the Bay.
"He's been all stoic lately. I haven't even talked to him in almost a week."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll come around. He's just nervous."
"Here's hoping."
Adie and I talked for another hour or so, and then she had to head home. Mom and Dad never did come back from the office so I chose not to think of the reason why.
I walked upstairs and practicallt collapsed on my bed from all of the day's excitement. I almost didn't notice my phone said I had one new text message. I flipped open the plastic device that has become half of the world population's lifeline. It was from Spud.
zacky n syn r both visitin da bay dis summa :)
I closed the phone and got underneath my comforter. For some reason, I knew that having those two bad boys here wasn't going to be the greatest idea. But I was sure as hell looking forward to it anyway.
Mid-May 2007.
Staring out of my window
Watching the cars go rolling by
My friends are gone
I've got nothing to do
The light outside of my window dimmed as a cloud eclipsed the sun temporarily from entering my room. My head rested comfortably atop my arms as I stared at the ceiling to my room.
I stared blankly into the eyes of countless pictures of Joe Strummer. Tim Armstrong, Freddie Mercury, and Debbie Harry among countless others, all staring back at me. I watched my cellphone, which surprisingly hasn't rung all day, rise and fall in time with my chest. I sighed. Today could not be any more of a waste of time.
I looked out of my window again and stared at the amazingly perfect day that was practically screaming at me to go outside and be free. I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to blot out the perfect, 'Sound of Music' type day outside and focused on the music that was flowing from my stereo.
***
My dad's voice lulled me into some musical euphoric state. I almost drifted to sleep when I felt my bed shift. The scent of his familiar cologne filled my nostrils, not choking but certainly not mistakable. I opened my eyes in time to see my dad fall back onto my mattress in a similar position as me, staring at my cieling.
"What's up, girl?" asked my adoptive father.
"The ceiling and the sky and probably some undiscovered planet in outerspace," I replied dryly.
"Jeez, someone's grumpy."
"Nope, bored shitless."
"Well, blasting Christie Road at a decibel so loud that I'm sure pigmes in New Guinea can hear isn't gonna help."
"I think it will."
"Why don't you call Bobbye or Amelia?"
"Bobbye's visiting her grandparents in Houston, and Spike is stuck with Mr. Clean again. Spud got grounded because she ran up the phone bill talking to Zacky all the time, and Frank's been either elusive or at band practice."
Yes people, Spud finally got the nerve to call Zacky, and the two hit it off really well. If Zacky doesn't ask her out really soon, then I'll be in shock. The same cannot be said for Mr. Iero and myself. Since that trip to the mall last month, he's been avoiding me. God, men can be so damn confusing.
"Sorry, baby. I can't be of much help, I'm in the same predicament."
"What about Mom?"
"She's having a girly spa day with Adie."
We both shuddered at the thought of a girly spa day. I'm not the, 'let's get pampered' type of girl. And since when did Adie and Mom get along? Isn't there some unwritten code that states that the former wife and future wife of a man getting along, and dare I say, hanging out completely out of protocol?
"Yeah, Adie and Dez get along good now. I never really had a problem with Adie, we just sorta fell out, not like it was an angry divorce or anything. Dez went to Adie's one day to drop off the boy's, and they just clicked."
"Strange."
"Ditto. So you wanna do something?"
He stared at me and displayed his inhuman skill of melting anyone's heart with that evil puppy dog look. Damn his big, green eyes. I swear his face changes from thirty-five years old to that of a three year old's in a matter of seconds.
"What's your plan, then?"
"We could: A, go to the mall, and you can be entertained by watching me get mauled by hundreds of twelve year olds. B, do the tourist thing and hang at Berkeley Square or eat at that kick ass Asian restaraunt on Clement Street or C, try and attempt surfing."
"I'll pass."
The image of Dad running for his life from a bunch of twelve year old teenies made me laugh, but is actually a scary thing to see. The restaraunt idea was good, I'm starved, but there's tons of paparazzi on Clement Street these days, and surfing? That's not even going to merit a second thought.
"Fine, have it your way. Oh, how about I call Uncle Tre and Mike, and you can come down to the studio with us and hear three new songs that'll most likely be on the new album?"
I practically jumped out of bed at that new suggestion. Hear the new material that could be Green Day's newest masterpiece? How could you pass that up? I may be his adoptive daughter now, but I was a Green Day fan first and foremost.
"I'll take that little reflex as a yes. I'm going downstairs to call 'em. You get dressed."
"Thank you!"
I squeezed him tightly to show him how much it meant to me, as if he didn't already know.
"No prob, Ash. I need some good constructive criticism and who better to ask?"
He laughed and closed the door, leaving me to throw on some clothes. The only thing I did do to make myself look halfway decent was my hair. Did you actually think I was just going to go to the studio where a certain uberly sexy bassist named Mike Dirnt is going to be with boredom bed head? 'Cha right.
***
After straightening my now shorter, cut to my shoulders, and freshly dyed, green streaks in the front, (think Rogue from the X-Men) hair, I ran downstairs and almost into Dad.
"You're not even going to stop and eat the lunch I spent most of the day attempting to make?" he asked me in a desperate housewife voice.
"Oh fine, where is it?"
He looked at me and burst into laughter. Was it really that funny?
"Damn, you really are to naïve for your own good. You actually think I'd actually cook something?"
"Hey, you might've gained some Emeril-like skills from being with my mom."
"If that were so..."
"Shut up, let's just go."
"Right-o."
He grabbed the keys to his black BMW, and we drove off. I swear to God, if I have to sit in another damn Beemer, I'm gonna scream. Dad's got one. Mike's got one, (note to self: do not skip a ride in that BMW), Frank has one, Tre's thinking of getting a Beemer SUV, Dad bought Mom a silver one, and Adie's got a red one. If it weren't for most of the people I know, BMW would be out of business.
***
We pulled up to 880 studios in Oakland and got out of that horrid machine. We walked inside and Dad and John (Roecker, the mastermind behind most projects here at 880) talked for a little bit, then we headed down to the studio designated for Green Day.
***
Mike was sprawled out on the sofa with, shock among shocks, a frappucino! Tre was running in circles around his drumset.
"Hola, peoples!" I shouted loud enough to get the older men's attention.
Mike got up and did that 'brotha' handshake thing with Dad and hugged me. Oh, the joys of being an Armstrong. Tre was still running around in circles but started to sing D.U.I.
Let's get drunk and go out driving...
"Tre!" shouted both Mike and Dad.
I was too busy laughing to yell with them. Tre wound up tripping over one of the various amplifier chords that scattered the floor of the studio and got tangled in his high-hat. Mike and Dad went to go help him while I helped myself to their mini-fridge.
Mike always has it stocked with frappucino's while Dad and Tre with Bud.
I grabbed my usual, vanilla, and sat on the sofa which was previously occupied by Mike. After about twenty minutes of Tre fixing his high-hat, Mike tuning his bass, and Dad tuning his Les Paul, they were finally ready to play.
"Okay, this first song's called..."
Do you actually think I'm going to tell you the name's of three songs that may or may not be on Green Day's next album or how it sounds? I'm sworn to secrecy, and you'll just have to wait and buy it to find out.
So basically, the next half hour I was in awe at the total badassness of those tracks. When they finished up, we all decided to go eat at this little hole-in-the-wall café down the block.
***
Dad and I wound up getting home around eight. Adie and Mom were joking around and making fun of the 'hungry hingry models' on E!.
"Hey, babe. Adie."
"Hey, Billie. You and Ash have fun?"
"Yeah, Mom. They showed me three of their newest songs they've been working on."
"That's awesome."
"How was the spa?" I asked, genuinely interested.
"Good, relaxation is what Adie and I both needed."
"Yeah, especially the hot masseuse guys," stated Adie matter-o'-factly.
"Really?" I asked, now extremely interested.
"Hot masseuse guys?" questioned Dad threateningly.
"Oh honey, not as hot as you," said Mom in an attempt to save her ass.
"I beg to differ," retorted Adie.
I started to laugh. How more awkward-funny could this situation get? These are the moments where I love my life.
"Fine, I'll take my sexy ass somewhere else."
And with that, Dad walked away and into his office, swaying his hips violently with every step. He looked like a transvestite streetwalker.
"Good Riddance, and I hope you had the time of your life," joked Adie, using his own lyrics out of context, thus creating the ultimate burn.
I practically fell to the floor in a fit of laughter. Mom ran after him jokingly like she was a desperate patron, and Adie just rolled her eyes in that, 'I was married to that' sort of way.
After recovering from my outburst, I sat on the sofa bside Adie and changed the channel to FUSE. An old SURS episode was on featuring My Chemical Romance. I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to watch the 'cause of most of my frustration at this point.
"So, how are you and Frank?"
Was it really so obvious? Well, Adie has been around a lot lately and probably hinted on the serious 'Frank' vibes that surround me. That, and my mom has the biggest mouth in the Bay.
"He's been all stoic lately. I haven't even talked to him in almost a week."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll come around. He's just nervous."
"Here's hoping."
Adie and I talked for another hour or so, and then she had to head home. Mom and Dad never did come back from the office so I chose not to think of the reason why.
I walked upstairs and practicallt collapsed on my bed from all of the day's excitement. I almost didn't notice my phone said I had one new text message. I flipped open the plastic device that has become half of the world population's lifeline. It was from Spud.
zacky n syn r both visitin da bay dis summa :)
I closed the phone and got underneath my comforter. For some reason, I knew that having those two bad boys here wasn't going to be the greatest idea. But I was sure as hell looking forward to it anyway.
