MAKE A MESS

Regan Adamopolous. Twenty-eight. MILF (of the newborn variety). American-Irish-ish. Freelance art curator. Full-time mess. Black coffee or bust. Big fan of meat lover's pizza. Stupidly in love.

[reganisms-blog]

Calderwood Historic District | @stellaroses - Closed Starter

“Shit.”

Regan glanced down to her tiny son, who was peacefully sleeping in the Babybjörn and had little awareness to the world around him. “You didn’t hear a thing, kid,” she interjected, then pressed her lips to his head. Her phone showed nothing more than a pitch black screen, and Regan immediately regretted not bringing that portable charger her mother gave as a Christmas present the year before. 

It was no matter. With or without a phone’s GPS, Regan determinedly sought the location of Easy Tiger---a hangout that shouldn’t be far from home. She pressed forward, traipsing through the winding streets of the Historic District with no avail. Thankfully (or so she hoped), a passerby neared on the same sidewalk. 

“Any chance Easy Tiger is around here somewhere?”

[reganisms-blog]

masonash‌:

Mason should have been more alarmed that his cooking ware was still missing, but with tacos on the brain— “Probably got dropped off here. Anyway, eat up.” He took a large bite out of his taco, relishing in the crunch of the shell. And while Mason couldn’t say for sure if they were the best tacos in the world or whatever the bag said, they were definitely the best he’d had in Calderwood so far.

“You know,” Mason started with a mouth full of lettuce, which he swallowed before continuing with his point. “I’m kinda more concerned that we were able to get that shit across the border. Are we sure we made the right move?”

Regan bit into the taco and immediately savored the flavor. Due to her subpar cooking abilities, and talent at even ruining cereal, any moderately decent dish impressed her, usually. This was good though, enough so that she gestured to try Mason’s and offered up her own for him.

“The sunset is nice.” She shrugged nonchalantly. 

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sidjcmes‌:

“Good enough for you, then it’s good enough for me.” Sid reminded herself never to have children. Even though the idea of having children didn’t enthuse her in the slightest she wasn’t above the idea that she’d ever be caught off guard. If that were to ever happen she’d just have to batten down the hatches and drink herself senseless to remind herself how much she’d miss out. 

“Only got one friend? Hard to believe.” Her own wit had got the better of her and she shot the woman a soft grin to assure that there was no malice present. Again, it had her wondering how Regan coped with the idea that others were able to have more ‘fun’ than she was. Sid would never know nor care to understand that level of martyrdom. “You know you’d probably surprised to hear most do. Can’t help it, you know?” 

Sid considered her options as she drained most of her beer. “We’ve got time.” 

“Just the one, which is shocking,” Regan lobbed back at Sid, her words dripping with sarcasm, “Considering I’m practically an angel without wings.” Regan laughed, genuinely laughed. She couldn’t recall the last time she did something for herself alone. It felt like most aspects of her life belonged to others, if not all at the present, but sitting here with a stranger, talking about everything and nothing simultaneously, felt good. Really, truly good. 

“Alright, gorgeous-handsome. Alright.” 

Regan’s eyes darted back to the sunset, which had nearly sunk within the sea. She hoped for a green flash, something brilliant and bright that would command attention. 

“Well,” she replied with a deep sigh. “My boyfriend and I...” Regan’s words trailed off. Boyfriend. It felt like such a simple way to describe a person who meant so much more than the word offered. “We had a complicated past. Mostly dumb and dramatic. We met when we were, like, eighteen-nineteen-ish. More often than not, we weren’t together. Like, he was my friend for a long time before anything else, because I never really wanted anyone in my life in that way. I mean, I did love him early on---I think I just loved him as much as I could love anyone at that time.” Regan gnawed at her bottom lip, ignoring the oddity of spilling her guts to a person she had known for less than an hour. It felt freeing, though. 

“Anyway, we broke up, did the friends thing for a long time. Really long. And then he told me he was going to propose to his then girlfriend and it’s like... Something in me snapped. Like I had expected him to always be there no matter what, and I was so fucking surprised he moved on.” Regan turned to Sid and raised her brows. “Dumb, I know.” She chortled. “Then everything came out, egos got pushed aside, and suddenly it was us against the world again. It happened so fucking fast, and I loved every minute of it. It felt like coming home, I guess.” 

“Then I found out about Myles, thought my whole world was ending because I did not want any of it. That wasn’t the plan, not even close.” 

[mjalti]

me, at 3 am: babe wake up … I figured out the jonbenet Ramsey murder case

my husband, groggy, the fourth time this week I’ve woken him up at 3 am with that statement exactly: ok let’s go over the facts,

[reganisms-blog]

sidjcmes‌:

What was a stranger when strangeness was an inherent trait? That was a philosophical debate for Sid to talk through with herself when she got her hands on a particularly potent strain of weed. Sid made friends wherever she went, even if she didn’t move more than a foot away from her porch. Perhaps she was social or maybe entertaining, either way, she found no danger in other people. Of course, there were assholes but she didn’t stick around long enough to let anything too untoward pass their lips. She picked and chose who she gave airtime too if she got bored she was sure there would be another to keep her company. 

“Not one for peer pressure but I feel bad not getting to offer you anything, lady.” Sid grinned, assured that the woman would do whatever she wished and all that she could do was leave the offer up for grabs. “I’m Sid, but you can totally call me handsome or gorgeous if the mood takes you.” The tattoo artist explained with a devious smirk before moving to shake her hand. She lit her cigarette and placed it between her lips, already moving to roll another. “Don’t worry about it. My sleep is up and down, sometimes its two hours and other times its twelve hours, either way, I’m just as delightful.” 

The woman’s words made her curious. “What changed?” 

“Look at this way, I’m sitting next to you and getting all the second-hand glory. That’s good enough for my boring ass now,” Regan mused as a smirk appeared on her lips. She liked this Sid, even if it had only been a few moments, but Regan had an inherent gift of judging others in less than five seconds---for better or for worse. 

“If this was my one friend sitting here, god, he’d be a fucking sucker.” Friend felt like a convoluted way to describe her ex-husband to a stranger, but Kingsley had been her friend far before and after she took and ultimately forfeited his last name. Regardless, she knew him well enough to see him turning tomato red trying to avoid lighting up; the thought made her miss Cobh, Ireland and the life she had given up for the opportunity in Calderwood. 

“Handsome or gorgeous, hm,” Regan replied with amusement. “How many people take you up on that, Sid?” Toes wiggled in the sand and eyes couldn’t rip away from the glorious, beaming sunset.  

Regan sighed deeply, unsure where to begin. “Long or short version?”

[reganisms-blog]

masonash‌:

“Tell me why we Postmate all the time when you know I know how to cook,” Mason shot back, all but collapsing in laughter. “Plus, we gotta figure out our bearings. Gotta know what’s good around here for the days I don’t wanna work from home.”

Poising a taco in front of his mouth, Mason cleared his throat. “Alright, I’m ready. You ready?”

“Because,” she replied, emphasizing the word, “the only pot we’ve found in our god damn countless boxes is the kind we have to put on hold until My has successfully landed in formula-land, and I’m going to tell you something right now. We haven’t known this kid for long, but his very cute but stubborn butt does not like change, so that will be a transition.” Regan wondered if their friend Kingsley would have enjoyed her pun, and thnn felt rather lame for uttering such a thing. “Anyway, point is: I can’t find our pots and pans. And by ours, I mean yours.”

Regan then grabbed another taco, held it up, and clinked it against Mason as if they were about to down cheap alcohol. “Slàinte.”

[reganisms-blog]

sidjcmes‌:

“All the more reason to take the scenic, you know?” Sid never failed to be rather floored by parents abilities to be candid. It seemed as though once a kid came along, cares just fell by the wayside. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, her own bluntness just coming from a space of self-love and remaining rather uncaring about the fact that other people had opinions on anything that related to her. Sidney James would forever be her own and imagining herself with a child was like watching a particularly bad trainwreck, the kind you actively look away from because it’s not worth paying for therapy for the trauma.

Her green eyes watched the woman and she knew exactly what she was saying in her silence. “Plenty of room for two.” Sid assured before offering up a rolled cigarette and digging around to find her lighter. “Take a load off. Sunset takes two seconds.” Not true, but white lies never did hurt anybody. 

“Absolutely not.” She chose not to mince her words in her response. 

Despite the fact Mr. and Mrs. Adamopolous raised their only child to maintain a healthy wariness of strangers, Regan revolted against her own upbringing and sat next down on the coarse sand. Her eyes bore into the cigarette; everything in her body yearned to bring it to her lips, light, and inhale. Regan had to remind herself that she was, in fact, nursing a new-born at the moment, and waiting days to get anything out of her system was annoying, to say the least. It’s the main reason she had navigated far away from alcohol since April. 

“I shouldn’t,” she finally responded in a noticeably weak tone. A tone that practically begged for debate. Regan’s eyes took in the view, and it reminded her how much she loved living here in Calderwood. Truly. She stuck out a hand toward the stranger. “I’m Regan, by the way. Probably should have said so before launching into my kid’s bowel movements, but getting four-ish hours of sleep with fuck with your senses.”

The harshness of the stranger’s objection to children amused Regan, and she couldn’t help but smile. The sentiment felt distant yet familiar, like trying on one’s favorite winter coat at the end of summer. 

“I used to be like that.”

[nessa007]

[reganisms-blog]

sidjcmes‌:

“I really hope you’re heading somewhere important,” Sid asked the passerby from her cozy mound of sand overlooking the beach; steps from home but she felt immersed in the outdoors. There were some evenings that required a setup, a sculpted sand ‘couch’, a crate of beer and a fresh pouch of tobacco. As much as she enjoyed fast-paced traveling and bouncing around from state to state she had no issue offering moments to stillness. The setting sun had dashed pink across the sky, clouds splitting between oranges and dandelion yellows, the heavens alight and Sid just happy to be its audience. “You’re missing out on the best view on the whole beach.” Not true, but Sid often thought of herself as a pretty decent salesperson. 

“There are some things you just can’t miss out on in this world.” And Sidney James knew she was without doubt one of those things.

“My son has diarrhea, apparently.” The irreverent words fell from Regan’s lips before she even realized what she spoke. She wouldn’t apologize for the crude remark, though. It was true, after all; besides, Regan Adamopolous wasn’t in the business of apologizing for telling the truth. “He’s been with his grandmother all damn day, and I know I should be rushing back, but...” Her eyes scanned the tobacco and suddenly every bit of her body yearned for it. 

Fuck, did Regan want a cigarette. She kicked the habit, more or less, a few years ago before Myles was ever in the picture. It helped curve her true appetite for something far more intense. Regan crossed her arms, subconsciously self-soothing, and glanced at the water. It truly was the best view. She sighed deeply. 

“Do you have a kid?”

[reganisms-blog]

masonash‌:

“I’m not counting mine,” Mason said, finally standing. He took the bag from Regan and fished inside for the hottest topic of conversation that hour. “We can make mine whenever we want, menu or not.”

“We can make mine whenever we want,” she replied in a mocking tone that mimicked Mason’s. “Tell me why we’re Postmates-ing when you can make me tacos whenever.”

[reganisms-blog]

hardingjana‌:

“Shoplifter Winona and yet alarmingly trashier? San Francisco is such a character of a city.”

“So if you don’t know, where ya from?”

“Me? Portland by way of Cobh, Ireland. It’s not as long a story as you think. Like, Winona’s fashion evolution is way fucking longer.”

[reganisms-blog]

lauraxcottrell‌:

Laura had always been terrible at remembering faces or names or both. Perhaps it was something that came with owning a store, she saw too many people every day and remembering all of their faces would have been way too much work for her.

She gave Regan a confused look at first but once she mentioned Bob, she couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh! Right!” She nodded her head. “Nice to officially meet you. I’m Laura. I’d shake hands and all but, uh,…” Laura paused and lifted her taco up, a goofy grin on her lips. “My hands are full.”

“I’d feel like an ass if you dropped tacos to shake my hand, so all good.” Regan laughed as the pair began walking towards Clary Street Park. “Has anyone else checked out Bob since I last saw him? Because I really want to know what kind of person buys him. No judgement, just curiosity, I guess.”

[reganisms-blog]

harperkellyxo‌:

“Uh…what would your change be?” Harper asked, squinting at the customer and then looking at the note they handed her and then the register that she had already opened. “I already tapped it in…I suck at math.”

“Literally, pick any damn number because I also suck at math.”

[reganisms-blog]

scarwhit‌:

“Yes!” Though her exclamation was a little louder than the place required, the feelings behind it were most genuine — the inside of her head really did feel like a big yes. Scarlett had finally decided to try the cool co-working space in Calderwood, perhaps the aura of creativity would inspire her, or at least the fact that everyone else was sweating their butts off would motivate her to do something. Anything. The enthusiast itself was due to finding the best possible place, finally. It had just the right amount of natural light she needed, being close by the window, and the internet signal was so good that Google would know the answer to her researches before she even typed. She was so entertained by her own good fortune that, when she did look up to see a few pairs of eyes looking at her, she almost didn’t understand. Almost, of course, before she offered an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that.”

“If I had your enthusiasm, maybe I’d get through this shit faster,” Regan responded in a dry tone. For every bit she loved art curation, the paperwork (namely, hefty contracts) took away the magic. It did help to work a few hours at Creative Co-working, and meeting others was an added perk. 

[reganisms-blog]

lauraxcottrell‌:

With her hands clinging to the taco she just bought, Laura was on her way through the crowd in the hopes of finding an area where she could eat her food in peace and without people constantly running into her, almost causing her to drop that holy grail of food (not like she hadn’t eaten enough for one night already but she needed this taco.). It wasn’t unusual for the streets to be this crowded today but she still found herself wishing for just a little less people.

She stopped when Regan spoke to her, nodding her head and quickly swallowing the bite she took from her taco. “Yeah, yeah, they are but it’s insane back there. Want me to come with you so you don’t get lost in the crowd?”

Suddenly, Regan realized the woman wasn’t a random stranger, but rather the owner of Treasure Chest Antique, who she had met days prior. Although the large crowd made her feel uneasy, she took comfort in seeing a familiar face. Not to mention, Laura’s taco smelled delicious and Regan wanted one for her own immediately. 

“Oh, hey. Yeah, sure--- if you don’t mind.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Regan, by the way. I came into your shop a few days ago. The Island of Bobs lady,” she jested. 

[reganisms-blog]

hardingjana‌:

“See, I thought so. The TSA at SFO just gave me a stern look-down. And then a pat down. There’s nothing better than being felt up by winged-liner Winona in front of your six month old.”

“That’s one hell of a welcome to California. Also, Heathers Winona or 90s Winona? I’ll accept a Stranger Things Winona, for what it’s worth.”

[reganisms-blog]

austincr0ss‌:

His fourth of July wasn’t going as well as everyone else’s seemed to be. Austin was straight up miserable and wallowing in self pity. His fast walk was attempting to get him back home where he planned on letting the day finish itself without having to witness it. The young woman’s voice stopped him and he nodded, slowing his pace to a halt to look in the direction of the trucks. “Yeah, they’re just straight down and…” he could barely make them out through the large crowd and he paused. “Ah, it’ll be easier if I walk with you. Saves me giving you the wrong directions.”

Regan liked to believe she maintained a healthy dose of skepticism in regard to most things in life, maybe a bit too much skepticism if one were to ask others. She eyed the man and internally questioned his interest in helping her navigate to the food trucks. She practically said no, but then remembered that in order to root herself in Calderwood, she needed to actually meet people. She tempered her naturally cagey demeanor and glanced up at the man. 

“Thanks. I mean, you really don’t need to but...” Regan glanced ahead at the crowd. “I appreciate it.” She pressed forward and the pair navigated through the countless patriotic Calderwoodians. “Any food recommendations at the food trucks?” She asked, trying to make conversation.