earthgirl (2 page)

The burly counter guy with full arm tats handed me a burrito. Even before I said what I wanted.

“Yam and chicken, right?” he smiled. “My treat, for nailing that whack job out there. My customers can do without sucking back car exhaust.”

“Thanks,” I beamed. I mean, recognition and free food? It was almost like being a celebrity or something. And all for simply doing the right thing at the right time. Wow.

“We ordered for you before,” Ella leaned in to whisper, snatching away my fleeting moment of glory.

“That was so awesome, Bean,” Carmen giggled.

“Yeah, you were so crazy, I thought you'd kick her car or slap her or something,” Ella said, her eyes widening.

“Me, too,” I answered while stuffing my face. So much for too hyper to eat. I was suddenly famished. “I hate when people are so obviously wrong and act like what you did was more wrong than them to take the heat off or excuse it!”

“You
were
riding the wrong way on a one-way street,” Carmen pointed out unhelpfully.

“So, I was on a bike. Besides, that's not as bad as hurling garbage out your car window at an innocent stranger. Not even close.”

“Maybe not exactly,” Ella said calmly. “Still, they're both sort of wrong, illegal even, and who's to say what's more wrong, especially when you decide you're the one who is right? I mean, of course I'm on your side, Bean, but wrong is wrong, right?”

I stopped chewing for a split second to look at my friends. My supposed best friends on the entire planet.

First off, I couldn't believe that such sentient words and ideas were coming from shiny happy Ella of all people. They were actually almost deep. And secondly, I was amazed at how quickly I'd gone from being the shit to being subjected to a stupid debate on morality. That hardly seemed fair considering I was the one covered in plum sauce. And all they did was stand on the sidelines with their fresh, crispy loot and sparkly new cellphones.

“Wrong, shmong, who cares about any of that? Look at how amazing the picture is on this phone. The resolution rocks. I'm so glad I bugged my mom to buy it for me,” Carmen announced. “Check this, you can practically see steam come out of your ears when she pushed you over. Unbelievable.”

“What a cow,” Ella laughed, leaning into Carmen's shoulder to watch on the minuscule screen. “And in a scrunchie and sweats! Ewwww.”

“You filmed all that? Lemme see,” I said, grabbing the fuchsia cellphone from her perfectly manicured mitts. I was curious to see how I looked on the teeny tiny monitor, especially since this was a permanent document and all. Who knew, if it were any good, it might even be worth YouTubing. To enlighten and inspire everyone out there in the big wide world.

I seriously hoped I looked kinda cute and a bit hot.

b e i n g h e r e
[ September 26th | 10:39pm ]
[ mood | determined ]
[ music | PJ Harvey — Good Fortune ]

Yeah, yeah, it's been a while for the Bean. Grand apologies all around. I just didn't want to bore you with the minutiae of the minutiae. Guess I was waiting for something epic and explosive to report.

And today that *IT* happened!!

Riding my bike through Kensington Market I got PELTED by some soccer-mom-she-ho and the detritus (thx Mr. Thesaurus) of her mccrappy meal. I FREAKED, as would any normal sane person, since getting pelted with garbage isn't just gross, it's profoundly NOT ON.

What followed was a blur of bad words (mostly mine!), hoots and shouts from bystanders – all caught on video by my girl CV. Click the YouTube link below!!!!

It was a shocking, unnecessary and profoundly horrible event. One I wouldn't wish on anyone. And yet I emerge from it not only unscathed (save for a nasty brown sauce stain) but strangely enriched. Empowered even.

To do better and be better because clearly there are a lot of people out there who need role models and guidance.

And maybe just maybe this happened because I'm the one to inspire the confused, misguided and/or slovenly masses to better, kinder interactions with their fellow beings and beans. Here's to trying anyway.

Inspiringly yours, Sabine the being.

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www.youtube.com/watch/W3515z.garbageassault

“Honey, I was thinking, I'm just not comfortable with you posting your picture all over the web for the whole world to see,” my mom said at breakfast the next morning.

“Relax. It's not a porno site. It's just video sharing, like that creepo Australian hug-me guy you thought was so adorable,” I said.

My mom Rachel, unfortunately, was actually vaguely tech savvy, having somehow, despite her vintage, mastered the skill of text messaging to stay on the down lo with my stupid sister Clare. That and she worked in PR and marketing and was now totally into web stuff.
The future of all interaction and communication
, her colleagues liked to say, as if they had actually invented it or had a clue and weren't led by the hand by their way more clever kids.

“I don't care, I don't like it. Take it down, please,” she said with a that's-final-so-don't-argue-with-me tone.

“C'mon, Mom, maybe Sabine just wants some free hugs,” Clare goaded. “It could be her only chance to get a cuddle.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, realizing I was definitely touchy about my neverending boyfriendlessness thing.

“Don't overreact, Rachel,” Dad said as he filled his car cup with coffee. “It's not like anyone's going to bother to watch her have some boring argument with someone. People are busy.”

“Gee, thanks for the support,” I huffed. “I have a life-changing encounter that might actually be of value to other people and all you do is knock it.”

“We're not knocking anything, sweetie,” Mom said, now pulling out her sensible-mom voice. “I just don't see the necessity of making an uncomfortable personal exchange with someone into some big public tirade. It's nobody's business but your own.”

“Did you even hear a word I said last night? This uncomfortable exchange, as you call it, is about something much bigger. It's like a metaphor for the way people crap on the planet and each other and the animals, on the air, on everything! And it has to stop. Someone has to make it stop.”

“Someone has to make this stop. I'm trying to eat the most important meal of the day and this is really annoying,” Clare groaned as she shoveled back a mouthful of cereal and made a face at me.

Typical. My supposedly supportive family stomping on my moment of glory. I was actually amped to get to school for once to see how my epic exchange was shaking down in my own personal peer-mediated universe. Who knew, maybe this would surpass Alexis Shaw and her eating disorder in the Northern Collegiate food chain of daily dish.

Even if my family failed to hear it, this was my wake-up call. The beginning of something potentially huge. The way
people treated the planet mattered. Pollution, destruction, corruption and greed mattered. Not that they hadn't mattered before, exactly. Just not to me.

How else could you explain garbage in the face! It was so obviously obvious. And I, Sabine Olivia Solomon, could no longer pretend I was more interested in hair extensions and fake eyelashes than the real world. The real, living, breathing and now choking-on-the-crap-we-throw-out-there (through car windows or otherwise) world.

Someone had to step up and speak for the planet and the trees and the water and the animals. To give them a voice. And even if mine was only a little whimper, I had plans to make a whole lot of noise.

“Fine,” I sighed. “You go back to eating, shopping, idling the car and consuming till you fall over. Maybe if you're lucky nothing will happen. But don't get on my head because I see that this is about something bigger and actually means something.”

“That's my girl. You rant and rage till the cows come home,” Dad said as he kissed me on the hair, having clearly not absorbed even an iota of what I'd just said. “And be a sport. Take down the video thing after school, okay? For your mom.”

•••

“Gotta say, Solomon, you surprised me with that little outburst of yours.”

I practically skidded to a stop at the husky drawl of Shane McCardle, an elusive sound rarely heard by most and never heard by me. Then again, I rarely heard the sounds of
any smokin' guys, unless you counted the nonstop jabbering of Carmen's lunkhead boyfriend Darren Mankowsky.

“Thanks,” I stuttered, wondering if he meant good surprised or bad surprised and also amazed he actually knew my name.

“Yeah, had you pegged for one of the clones,” he nodded with a raised eyebrow as he loped away. “Dare to be different.”

And just like that he was gone again, the knotty head and vibrant blur of his Guatemalan jacket blending into the crowd down the hall.

“That was Shane McCardle!” Ella bolted toward me, practically knocking me over. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. Same as everyone else,” I lied.

This morning's journey across the lawn and through the front doors had been definitively different from most days. A slew of nods, winks and props mixed with scoffs and the occasional slag greeted me. Even the generally absent (in all senses) mousy Somerville gave me big ups, saying she saluted my “moral indignation.”

“You and Shane McCardle. That so rocks,” Ella sighed, clearly imagining Shane and
her
.

“He just said hey,” I shrugged, though admittedly I was a bit frazzled and electric he'd done even that.

“Looks like you're e-famous,” Carmen said matter-of-factly, looking around at the other students as if they were her subjects. “You should milk it while you can, cause sadly fame, especially your kind, is fleeting.”

“I'm not interested in fame,” I scoffed, feeling a tad out-raged
that my profound life-changing experience was being distilled down to something so trivial.

“You have so much to learn about playing the game,” Carmen sighed. “Why do you think I posted it in the first place? To help you out, get you to the next level.”

“Of what? What happened yesterday meant something.”

“I'll say,” Ella grinned. “You're on YouTube and not having a pillow fight or something pervie like the one Alexis and her posse posted. The skanks.”

“No, that we should be paying attention to the world around us. It's in crisis, stressing out.”

“No offense, Sabine. But there aren't a lot of people we know or hang with who care about the planet being stressed. We've got enough of our own stress, thank you very much.”

“I concur,” Carmen said, as she gathered her books.

“But the world is in trouble, crying out for us to help. We can't ignore that by obsessing over guys and clothes or what movie we should see on the weekend just so we don't have to look at the horrible reality we've created for ourselves,” I rambled, clearly on a roll.

“Hey, it wasn't our generation that messed things up for us,” Carmen said, snapping her locker shut. “And for the record, I vote for that spooky cruise ship movie opening Friday.”

“Whatever, as long as it gets me out of the house,” Ella chirped. “And just so you know, Sabine, it's not exactly cheery to hear the world is about to end. We're only sixteen and besides, we don't even drive yet and I'm pretty sure my
brother can drop us at the early show, but someone's units have to pick us up.”

“It's not depressing,” I answered, amazed but not at how they were trivializing something so important and somehow by extension also proving it so incredibly relevant. “I mean, it is a downer, but it doesn't have to be. It's also empowering. The only way to fix problems is to know what they are so you can do something.”

“Good for you,” Carmen smiled. “Go forth with your newfound fame and glory and be a fixer of the world and hopefully I can fix the C I got on my history test before the parentals find out and my almost-perfect universe falls apart, too. Cause that, girlfriend, would really, really suck large.”

b e i n g h e r e
why-a pariah?
[ Sept. 27th | 09:41pm ]
[ mood | confounded ]
[ music | Hawksley Workman — Goodbye to Radio ]

Despite the parental haranguing, I left the video up. For now. It's hardly the international show stopper I'd figured, getting nothing near the hits and visits it deserves (apparently becoming a YouTube phenom involves phenomenal amounts of energy, promotion and email contacts).

Still, what reaction i have had has been overwhelming.

Huge hugs and thank yous to the peeps offering support and encouragement.

A pox on you slaggers. Yeah sure, sticks and stones hurt more, but names sting too! It's weird. Am I the only one in my corner of the world who sees the validity of this new focus? Or am I delusional in thinking I can make a dent in the problem? In the complacency of my friends and their friends and so on, etc?

Yup. I guess I am. But I will do my very bestest to embrace the epic new challenge. I owe it to myself and the planet.

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www.savetheearth.org

onederful 09-29 11:22
Saw you fight the power! Good on ya! And don't be discouraged – there are 70 million video clips out there and it's hard to distract people from bad karaoke and sleeping kittens. Sad but true. I'll fwd yer link to everyone I know! even the kitten lovers.