The Past Is a Grotesque Animal

[Joshua Bernstein]

The past is a grotesque animal
And in it's eyes you see
How completely wrong you can be
-of Montreal

---

1991

---

"Junk. Junk, junk, junk. Bills." Josh muttered, tossing mail into separate piles in front of the couch. "Bills. Mother. Junk, junk, junk."


Simon rested his head in one hand, the other drumming against the armrest with undisguised irritation. "I thought this was supposed to be a date." He piped up after several minutes spent watching the other man sort mail without any indication he noticed he had company. But of course he did know he had company; he'd had to answer the door. And his welcome had been a disappointing invitation to sit on the couch while Josh went through his mail. No kiss, no hug, not even a glad to see you, and Simon's attempts to get attention, opening his arms and leaning for the other man, had been expressly ignored. "Do you even like me?"


"Junk. Oh, Talia sent me something, how about that. Bills, junk. Sure I like you." Josh didn't look up from his task, oblivious to the insecurities plaguing the other occupant of the couch. "Wouldn't be dating you otherwise. Junk, junk, bills. I swear, the junk mail is never ending."


"No, you don't. We never spend any time together anymore unless I ask. And you're always distracted! You can't even look at me while I'm talking to you."


Josh did look up at that. "We spend time together. We're together now." Defensive but unwilling to expand upon the obvious reasons why they couldn't spend all their time together. Again. Work was simply more important than boyfriends. He'd thought Simon had realized that when he'd agreed to date, but apparently not since it kept coming up. He didn't see what the problem was; they spent quite a good bit of time together in his estimate. They'd begun spending a great deal of time together before dating, time that had included both of them being distracted by studying and homework. It wasn't that he disliked his boyfriend, but he didn't see any reason that they needed to spend more time together than they already did. He liked the other man well enough; he was nice to spend time with (when he had the time) and he was fairly agreeable and extremely liberal and so when Simon had asked if he wanted to be more than friends he hadn't taken any time at all to respond with a shrug and a Sure.

More than friends did not mean spend every waking moment together. He'd tried that before and while it had been fun for awhile, ultimately he'd felt overwhelmed and smothered. He wasn't keen on attempting that again anytime soon.


"You're sorting your mail. That doesn't count. You couldn't even wait until after we have dinner to do this? Even your mail is more important to you than me." A pointed glare was sent toward the mail, a glare that said he would be shredding every last envelope if he could. "Why don't you just break up with me, if I'm so boring!"


Josh went slackjawed at Simon's unexpected outburst. He definitely didn't think Simon was boring, but he had an idea that an explanation to that affect would be missing the point. "Oh. Umm." He glanced from the mail to his boyfriend, then shrugged, "Okay, then."


"What do you mean okay, then??!" Simon demanded; this wasn't the direction he'd intended this conversation to take.


"You said you wanted to break up." Now the other man was just being confusing. First he'd called and insisted they have dinner together, then he said they should break up, and now....he was upset because of what again? Because Josh wasn't going to argue him out of it? He certainly didn't want to break up with Simon; he liked having someone to spend time with and Simon was nice. But he didn't want to plead for a relationship that wasn't working for his partner. That sounded like nothing short of a waste of energy.


"I didn't....! Ugh, I knew it, you don't like me."


"I do like you, but you said we should break up." Josh pointed out, dropping the remainder of the mail in a pile to be sorted through later; it was difficult to concentrate when his boyfriend was breaking up with him. "So I'm saying okay. If you don't want to stay, then don't. You won't be happy and we'll have this conversation again in two days."


Simon pushed himself off the couch, glaring accusingly at the other man. "Fine!" He spat, not bothering to hide the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He wanted this to work out; he didn't want to be the only one who cared that it didn't. "I can't believe I ever liked you. I'll just...I'll just leave then."


And as he slammed the door behind him Josh was left scratching his head in confusion. After a moment he sighed and reached for the phone, dialing the one person he knew would understand.


"Hey, Sean? I think I just broke up with Simon..."

[Joshua Bernstein]

April 1978

---

Balto had guarded his section of Central Park since December of 1925, bearing witness to many romantic trysts. Rebekah Katzenberg and Joshua Bernstein were one of many ill-fated couples to meet at the foot of the statue, a half-way point between their homes before jaunting off on a planned date. In this case, prom. At least, prom had been the original plan.


"You're wearing jeans." Rebekah narrowed her eyes at her date, perfectly manicured fingers drumming against her hips. She was wearing a full-length pea-green gown, her mother's pearl necklace and had her hair done in the best imitation of Farrah Fawcett she could manage. She had expected her date to show up with a corsage, not a rumpled flyer. "and those aren't prom tickets."


Josh glanced down at himself in confusion. "Of course I'm wearing jeans...." He looked back up at her and then followed her glare down to the flyer in his hand, "This is directions." He informed her, smoothing out the wrinkled yellow page. "It shows us where to get off the subway."


"What do you mean directions?" Rebekah snatched the flyer from her date, reading the bold headline printed above a tiny, smudged grid she supposed was someone's idea of a map. "Ira's Deli is super smelly. Come join us in protesting Ira's Deli." She pressed one hand against her forehead before handing the paper back to Josh, "Our prom is not at Ira's Deli." She snapped, wishing she had insisted they meet at the school instead of agreeing to stop in Central Park.


"No. We're not going to prom. Donald was supposed to tell you. Don't you have homeroom with Donald? He said you had homeroom together."


"Donald wasn't in homeroom today."


"Oh. Well. We're protesting." Josh explained, folding up the flyer and tucking it in his pocket. "It was the same time as prom so I thought we'd go do something productive instead of being frivolous and ignoring the problems in our country."


Rebekah rolled her eyes. Usually she liked Josh. He wasn't like other boys in their class; he asked her opinion when they had projects together and he never looked at her cleavage instead of her face when they spoke. He was conscientous and smart and....and then he pulled things like this. Maybe she wouldn't mind if he was a little like the other boys. "Great. What did Ira's Deli do to deserve protesting?"


"Ira donated money to the RNC."


"That's the major problem in our country we have to solve instead of attending prom?"


"Well, yeah."


"Oh. My. God. This is my date." Rebekah rolled her eyes skyward. She wasn't the least bit concerned with which organizations Ira donated his money to. She was concerned about prom. She had been excited about looking pretty and dancing, not standing around outside a deli chanting slogans. "You invited me to prom. Not to a protest!" She reminded him, her voice rising in pitch. "If you didn't want to go to prom you shouldn't have asked me! No, don't explain!" She added as he opened his mouth, "Give me the tickets, I'm going to prom with or without you."

"....Umm." Josh scratched the back of his neck nervously, "I didn't think we'd need them. I gave them to Rich, he couldn't afford any and he wanted to....take....Rhonda....." His voice was almost inaudible at the end of this explanation, and he backed away from his date and her murderous, smokily outlined eyes. Not quickly enough; the pointy end of her shoes connected with his shins, and he yelped, leaning down to rub them as she stalked off without another word.


He watched until she was out of sight, beyond the bounds of Central Park. Well, drats. That hadn't gone well. He'd expected her to be pleased with this change of plans; he'd thought she was more than just the bimbo cheerleader most of the other boys claimed.


"Josh. Hey."

Josh looked up to see a short, sandy-haired boy approaching; his faded denims had holes in the knees and his t-shirt had seen better days. "Donald! I heard you weren't in homeroom today."


"What? Yeah. Mabel...distracted me."


"Where is Mabel?" Josh peered over the other boy's shoulder, straining to see Donald's date.


Donald shrugged. "She got kind of mad at me, man. Said she would rather go to prom than a protest."


"Really? Bekah said the same thing."


"Girls. Go figure."


"Yeah. Girls."


The two boys shook their heads in unison; They would never understand the opposite sex.


Josh stood, thrusting his hands into his pockets and jerked his head toward the street as if to say forget the girls, we have more important things to do.


"Well? Let's go set Ira straight."

[Joshua Bernstein]

July 1976

---

Josh and Donald were standing on the streets of Manhattan, shivering in the rain. Neither had dressed appropriately for the weather, but they weren't about to go back to the warmth of their homes. Not until they'd registered their disagreement with the Supreme Court's ruling on Gregg vs Georgia. Registered and convinced all of Manhattan to join them with the stack of very soggy flyers they were handing out, flyers that explained the grave anarchist future that awaited a country that allowed the death penalty.


To say they had expected a bigger crowd would have been an understatement; they had expected a crowd. Any crowd. Not a woman with what looked like a bird's nest for hair, a person of indeterminate gender, a few aging hippies and a couple who were too stoned to be helpful. The small group were clustered outside City Hall, attempting to snare attention with little success. Most of the passers-by ignored them, heads down and umbrellas held high to avoid the rain. Most of the umbrellas were black, as drab as the grim-faced businessmen and women who carried them. A woman stopped long enough to jeer at them; her umbrella was neon green and decorated with little cartoon frogs. She was probably a tourist; at any rate she was very vocal about her dislike of hippies. Although he admired hippies, Josh was fairly certain that he wasn't one. Donald made a rude gesture in her direction. Josh merely looked sad.


"Is disliking murder just a hippie concept? I wish it was an everyone concept," he sighed, brushing damp hair out of his eyes before shooting a glare at the stoned couple; they looked like hippies, in T-shirts imprinted with giant Bob Marley heads and unwashed jeans, "I wish they would stop smoking and help us." He groused.


"Don't lie, you just want them to share," Donald grinned, elbowing his friend in the ribs.


Josh paused, allowing an older gentleman and his wife to pass without accosting them. "That too." He admitted after a moment, returning his attention to the passers-by. A little pot might make this whole exercises more bearable. As it was he was miserable: he was soaked to the skin, his feet were tired from standing on the streets all day, his voice was hoarse and he was discouraged by their lack of success. There had been no swell of supporters as the day wore on, there were no journalists or television crews to ensure their sacrifice of dry clothes in the name of justice lived on, there weren't even any police officers around to turn them into martyrs.


He scuffed his shoe against the cement in discouragement, glancing down at his watch. "It's almost dinner time." He sighed. His mother would be setting out her special mushroom pie; his father had invited a coworker over from dinner and had requested that along with a flourless chocolate cake. Kosher, because his coworker was religious. Josh's family weren't exactly the best at observing such trivialities. "Do you think mom will notice if I'm late?" The answer to that was that of course she would notice if he came home late and dripping wet and while she herself had complained loudly about the outcome of Gregg vs Georgia she wasn't likely to approve of being rude to their guests.


"Probably," Donald supplied, unfortunately confirming his thoughts and Josh kicked at the curb again.


"But it's in the name of justice," He rationalized, shoving a piece of paper at a young Asian woman; she ignored it and he sighed again, "Justice is more of a struggle than I was hoping it would be." When he'd envisioned participating in this demonstration he'd envisioned thousands of people rallying together to overturn a decision in favor of death, possibly in the face of terrible and violent opposition from the police or maybe even the National Guard. Violent opposition, of course, meant spraying people with hoses and maybe roughing a few of them up when arresting them, not running people over with tanks or shootings or beheadings or anything too barbaric. What he hadn't expected was apathy from almost the entire rest of the population. Didn't people read the news? Didn't they care? "I thought we were more civilized than this!" He complained, handing his flyer to a good looking man in a three-piece suit. The man took the paper, glancing over it just long enough for Josh's spirits to lift -- someone cared!, and then tossed it to the ground. "Hey!! That's littering!!!" The teen yelled after him as the paper was trampled into the wet pavement.


He darted forward, snatching the now destroyed flyer off the street and crumpling it up dejectedly. "Maybe we should ask if they'll share..." He began, scanning to find a trashcan. The trashcan was nearby; their supposed help was nowhere to be found.


"Must have got the munchies." Donald observed sagely.


Josh could feel his own stomach rumbling and thought of dinner and chocolate cake and a warm house and dry clothes. "....do you think if we waited a day it would make a difference?" He asked after a moment.


Donald shook his head. "We can come back tomorrow. Maybe we'll even have rain jackets."


"Sure," Josh agreed, shuffling his flyers, "Tomorrow. People will listen to us tomorrow. Maybe I'll even get mom to pack us lunch. People listen to demonstrators who bring their own lunch."


"Good idea. It's hard to be persuasive on an empty stomach." Donald nodded.


"Exactly. We need food to think properly." He gave a casual nod to the pitiful remainders of their group. "My mom's expecting me back for dinner," He explained, "We'll be back tomorrow." And he turned to Donald, "So we're having guests over anyway, I'll bet there's enough dinner to Fed an army. Do you want to stay over?"


"I don't know..." Donald began doubtfully, but Josh cut in quickly with "There'll be cake!"


"Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll come. For cake. Do you think she'll bake us a cake for tomorrow?"


"Sure. Cake is persuasive, right? Cake for justice. I suppose that's a fair trade. Mom likes justice."


"I meant for us, Josh."


"Oh. Maybe."


The two boys hurried toward the subway station, rushing not because of the rain (it was much too late to care about that) but because of the promise of food.

Josh taped a few of his flyers to the walls of the station while they waited. Maybe they hadn't accomplished much tonight, but tomorrow they would. Tomorrow people would listen to them. Tomorrow society would be unable to sanction the death penalty because two sixteen year olds and a group of aging hippies said they shouldn't. The Supreme Court might not feel pressure to change their ruling that night; perhaps one day alone wasn't quite enough time to spread information.

They still had tomorrow.

[Joshua Bernstein]

April 1973

---

Josh drew his knees up to his chest, frowning at his older brother. "So he can stretch out his arms really long. That seems kind of harmless" He opined, scowling at the floor. Mitchell had been their next door neighbor for all 13 years of his life. They had practically grown up together, from play-dates as toddlers to Junior High. Mitchell had gone to his Bar Mitzvah just last weekend, even, and now he was gone. It seemed wrong, somehow, that Mitchell wasn't going to attend High School with him and Donald. All he'd done was rescue Dawn Jodorowsky's cat, which had escaped her apartment and run up the tree on the front sidewalk. That didn't seem like the sort of thing a person ought to be taken away from his home for, especially since he hadn't even been allowed to say goodbye to his friends. No, instead his parents had whisked him away before Josh or Donald or Bekah or Mabel or Frank even heard he was leaving. At least Dawn had been there, been able to squeak out a hurried farewell to him before running to phone the rest of their little group.


Matt shrugged, not looking up from the Biology assignment he was aimlessly doodling on, "I don't decide these things."


"I know you don't!" Josh jerked his gaze from the floor to his brother's sneakers, which were dangling beside his head from the bed, "But it's stupid. I don't see why they had to take him away."


"Josh..."


"It's like with Mrs. Schwartz. One minute everyone loves her and now she's a pariah. All she does is make plants grow." At least his mother still talked to her; she'd invited her over for coffee cake just yesterday. But his mother didn't mind things like unusual abilities. The rest of the congregation had a different opinion of them all together. "She's not like that guy on the news who burned down that church in Alabama." The arsonist had been meta and he was lucky the police had arrested him before the civilians found him; there was a regular lynch mob rallied against him. Josh was a bit torn on that subject, because while he was fairly certain that it had been on purpose what with the giant flaming cross the arsonist had burnt into the lawn, he was also pretty sure that more people had been outraged that a meta-human had burned down a building than that the building had been burned down as a racist statement. He also thought being a racist meta-human was kind of a dumb thing; oppressed minorities ought to help one another, not encourage the oppression.


"Josh....." Matt sighed again. Unlike his younger brother he wasn't all that interested in being outraged over the news; he would rather read mysteries and draw all over his schoolwork. And he already had to listen to his mother rant about the state of the world; he certainly didn't want to listen to Josh parroting her.


Josh, however, talked right over his brother's objections. "Or that attorney who worked for the Department of Justice. I'll bet he doesn't even read minds that much." He didn't think reading minds would actually effect his work, anyway; it might even be useful. Not that he blamed people for not wanting their minds read, but Mrs. Schwartz didn't go around making plants grow all the time, so probably the same could be said for the martyred attorney. Probably.


"Josh, I know."


The exasperation in Matt's voice made Josh hug his knees tighter, shooting his brother a disappointed look for being unwilling to join him in outrage. He chewed his lower lip a moment before responding with his own sigh. Apparently Matt didn't care that Mitchell had been taken away. Mitchell wasn't his friend, just his annoying little brother's. That sort of attitude was why this was still allowed to happen, but he didn't feel like arguing with his brother. He felt like being upset that Mitchell was gone.

"Yeah." He mumbled after a moment, pushing himself to his feet and heading to the door, which lead to the living room and his mother and a more sympathetic ear for his distress, "It just bothers me, that's all."

[Joshua Bernstein]

1965

---

The smell of yellow American cheese sizzling on the stove top drifted into the living room. Thirteen year old Shulamit Kunkel had left her two charges there, Matt busy with a coloring book and Josh asleep on the couch. She was relieved that the youngest Bernstein was napping; Matt was easy to handle but Josh tended to bounce off the walls. If her mother hadn't been friends with Mrs. Bernstein she would have begun charging more money to watch the boys. Mrs. Bernstein was now seven months pregnant; Shulamit sincerely hoped the newest addition to the Bernstein household would share Matt's temperament.

Whatever Shulamit wanted the smell was enough to entice the youngest Bernstein to wakefulness, rolling off the couch and rubbing his eyes. "Maaaaaatt." He padded over to where the eight year old was giving careful attention to making Jiminy Cricket an appropriate shade of green. "What're you doing?"

"Coloring," Matt responded, failing to look up.

"Play with me!" Josh demanded, trying to yank the coloring book out of his brother's hand.

Matt shoved the younger boy away from his precious coloring. "Stoppit! I don't wanna!" He cried, looking down with dismay at his coloring book, which now sported a giant green streak across Jiminy and Pinocchio. "Shulamiiiiiiiiiiit! Josh messed up my coloriiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!!"

"Did not!!!" Josh objected, stamping one foot. "I just asked you to play!! Come on, Matt, play with meeee!" He begged, clasping his brother's arm and tugging him determinedly.

"I'm coloring! Leave me alone!!" Matt attempted to shake Josh off, with little success. "Josh, let go!!" He shoved his brother again, causing the younger boy to fall over with a cry. "Shulamit! Tell Josh to leave me alone!!"

The whining keen caused the girl to snap her head around the corner of the kitchen, brown curls bouncing around her head. "Boys! No fighting!"

The five year old jutted out his lower lip defiantly. "Matt pushed me!!"

"You tried to steal my book!"

"I just wanna plaaaay!"

Shulamit sighed in frustration; she was pretty sure she never wanted children. "Please stop fighting or --- " She began before Josh had latched onto her legs. "Play with me!! I wanna play!!!!"

She attempted to scrape him off. "Not right now, Josh, I'm trying to make your dinner."

"I don't want dinner! I wanna play!"

"Maybe after dinner."

"I wanna play now!" Patience was perhaps not his best virtue, but then he was only five. Shulamit could only hope he would learn with time.

"We'll play after I finish these grilled cheese sandwiches," She promised, wishing Josh had stayed asleep. He always wore her out. She was pretty sure she was too old for this.

Josh didn't look entirely convinced, but the mention of grilled cheese gave him pause. "With American cheese?"

A nod.

"Yellow?"

Another nod.

"You promise you'll play with me?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." He agreed, looking over at Matt, who was clutching his coloring book protectively before wandering over to the box of Lego's in the corner. Sometimes he knew when to quit.

Shulamit gave a sigh of relief and returned to the kitchen to finish grilling dinner. And when Mrs. and Mr. Bernstein returned home and asked if the boys had behaved she smiled.

[Joshua Bernstein]

August 1978

---

The first week of the semester was barely over and already Josh was loaded down with homework, essays and reading assignments and projects. His dorm had proved too crowded and distracting -- he sincerely hoped his roommate wasn't planning on inviting his girlfriend over every night for the rest of the school year -- so he'd taken himself and his work over to Central Park, wandering the pathways until he found himself among the brilliant flowers of Shakespeare Garden. There were fewer people here, making the spot seem a serene fairytale secret hidden away from the prying eyes of mortals. It was definitely a less distracting place to study.

He perched himself on a bench, shoving his book-bag beneath his feet in case any stray pedestrians felt the need to share the bench with him, and propped his Biology textbook open with his knees. Biology wasn't his favorite class, but it had to be passed. He wished he could just skip from Science straight into Law, but for some reason the school administration frowned on that attitude.

He had just started on the first chapter when a young girl, no more than five (he wasn't very good at guessing children's ages), wandered into view.

She saw him looking and marched straight over to him with all the boldness of childhood, hauling himself onto the bench beside him. "Have you seen my mommy?"

Josh glanced up, scanning the flowerbeds and hedges for any sign of an adult woman, but non sprung immediately to view. He looked back down at the girl beside him, brown eyes regarding him seriously. "What does she look like?" He asked after a moment but her answer was vague and unhelpful.

He snapped his book shut, depositing it on top of his bag. "I'll help you look for her, come on." He stood, nudging his bag further under the bench. "I'll give you a piggyback ride and you tell me if you see her." He bent down, hiking the girl onto his back.

"Horsey!" She giggled, petting his hair. Okay, he was a horse. He could deal with that. Her mother was probably somewhere nearby, anyway, so he wouldn't have to be a horse for very long. He could deposit her with her family and go back to being a studious college student.

---

Several hours and a long scouring of Central Park later and he was still no closer to locating the little girl's mother. He had, however, learned a great deal about the girl: Her name was Nicole and she had two older sisters and she wanted a pony and she was going to be an astronaut when she grew up and could they please stop for a lemonade because she was thirsty.

Josh put her down at the Hot Dog stand, glad for a break as hauling around small children was more difficult than he'd imagined and his back was getting sore. He was glad he kept his wallet in his jean pockets instead of his book-bag; he was just as thirsty as Nicole, if not more so. He had just paid for two lemonades when he heard a shriek.

"Mama!"

He turned in time to see Nicole streaking across the path toward a tall, slim woman with brown hair cut short. The woman looked haggard, her face creased with worry that dissipated the moment she caught sight of Nicole. "Nicole! Oh my god!"

Josh leaned across the Hot Dog stand to whisper instructions to the vendor. He didn't need his lemonade after all, Nicole's mother could have it.

As he rounded the corner and slipped out of sight he could hear the girl telling her mother how a nice young boy had helped her. But he wasn't going to stick around; Nicole had been reunited with her mother and that was nice but his evening wasn't done yet.

After all, he still had Biology homework.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Of course I have!" Josh lied, peering suspiciously into the plastic cup full of alcohol. He'd turned 18 in April, but he had yet to avail himself of any of his new privileges with the exception of voting. He'd not yet begun to drink, though that had little to do with concerns for either staying sober or following the law as he'd been perfectly happy to consume marijuana all throughout high school. He just hadn't had easy access to beer. Well, that was going to change now, apparently. His new friends drank at parties, and he wanted desperately to fit in with them: They were conscientious and intelligent and willing to work to make the world a better place. They were also, by and large, several years older than he was and....

Well, he didn't exactly want to admit it, but they were friends with Sean. He really wanted to impress Sean.

And impressing Sean (and his friends. but mostly Sean) had somehow translated into his mind to mean pretend to have experience with alcohol, which was why he'd just had his plastic cup refilled for the fourth time. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to continue drinking, which was why he was staring at the liquid instead of imbibing. Greg's jab that he'd never had beer before tonight, however, was enough to make him screw up his face and tilt the cup back.

Unfortunately, drinking yet another round did nothing to stop the world from spinning. In fact, he was pretty sure it only made the spinning worse.

He squinted over in the direction of Sean. He was busily involved in conversation with Daphne, which meant he was probably not properly impressed. That was a little vexing, because Josh was fairly certain that if he drank anymore he was going to throw up; throwing up wasn't on his list of things to do in front of cute guys.

"Agh! The Frosh exploded!"

There went impressive.

Josh had just enough time to look in dismay at the vomit on his shoes and down the front of his shirt before passing out.

---

He woke the next morning with a splitting headache, on someone else's couch and in someone else's shirt. He had to admit, it was nice of them not to leave him in the clothes he'd been wearing the night before. But as nice as the older Peacies were about the fiasco he was still bummed out.

He'd definitely blown his chances.

[Joshua Bernstein]

April 24th 1975

---

"Did you see Ford's speech last night?" Donald leaned across the lunch room table, half-eaten turkey sandwich in hand.

Josh nodded cautiously, "Yeah. He was --"

"Brilliant." Rich offered from beside Josh, admiration in his eyes.

There was a moment of silence while Donald and Josh took in this information.

Josh was the first one to break the silence. "It's about time. I thought it would go on forever." That was the closest to praise he was willing to give President Ford; after all, he might have announced the ending to the war, but that was far from a bold move considering public sentiment.

"It wouldn't have gone on for[/i]ever[/i]," Donald disagreed, "We signed the Paris Peace Accords."

"And Kissinger got the peace prize," Josh pointed out, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought, "The Accords didn't mean anything, we still have troops over there."

"It was a start!" Rich snagged a handful of french fries from Josh's lunch tray. "This peace thing doesn't happen over night, you know."

Josh swatted his friend's hand away from his meal. "It should, it shouldn't be that hard."

"Give the guy a break!" Rich protested, mouth full of stolen fries, "He's not a bad president. I wouldn't mind having him again."

Josh nearly choked on his hot dog. "EW! Rich!" He spluttered, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve, "If Ford gets elected again I'm moving to Canada."

"No, you're not," Donald snickered, "You'll just complain."

"You don't know that! Maybe I will move! Maybe I'll go to college in Canada. They have colleges and stuff there."

Rich grabbed another fry, a small grin on his face, "Really? I thought they only had stoned draft dodgers."

"Shut up, Rich," Donald and Josh ordered in unison.

"Since when were you a Republican, anyway?" Donald wondered, finally remembering that he was still holding his sandwich and taking a bite.

"I'm not, I vote for the candidate, not the party," Rich informed his friends, lifting his chin a bit.

Josh squinted at him, "Ford wasn't voted in." He said at the same time Donald laughed, "You're not old enough to vote, Rich."

"I would have voted for him if I could've." Rich shrugged and Josh rolled his eyes.

"That's the dumbest thing ever." Josh decided, scooting his tray away from Rich. "You vote for your party cause politicians are on a team, they can't do much without team support."

Rich raised an eyebrow at him. "See, that makes politics sound like a sport. Maybe you should just take up football, then when your team doesn't win you'll only be depressed until the next game instead of four years."

Josh glowered at him, slouching down in his chair. "Shut up, Rich, it's more important than a sport. And Ford is an awful president already."

"But his speech was brilliant and he ended the war."

Josh rolled his eyes again while Donald piped up with a mouth full of sandwich, "He didn't end the war...."

Rich shrugged and pushed away from the table. "Whatever you say. I would still have voted for him."

Josh watched him leave and then hurriedly shoveled the remainder of his fries into his mouth. "He'd better not win," He told Donald between scarfing down his fries, "I really don't want to move to Canada."

[Joshua Bernstein]

1997

---

The apartment felt lonely.

Sean had suggested he find a boyfriend. He was pretty sure that was meant as a joke. Even if he found a boyfriend he wasn't going to invite him to move in, but he wouldn't exactly describe himself as looking. Maybe looking in the other direction and hoping nobody noticed him. It wasn't that boyfriends were a terrible idea; there were some nice aspects to the whole relationship thing. Like, well, not being alone. And he'd liked living with Sean right up until they couldn't do anything individually, including studying. That was the big problem with boyfriends: he really, really didn't want to be joined at the hip with anyone. There needed to be an option to spend a lot of time together while still maintaining a separate life.

Boyfriends were obviously out of the question.

That was why he was standing in Anita Lamprey's backyard, hovering over the hutches filled with Holland Lop Rabbits. A friend had a rabbit once, when he was very young. It had nibbled on some wires and electrocuted itself and his mother had shortly after put the kibosh on his own inquiries. He hadn't had the time to care for one during college (and he wasn't about to suggest one when he was living with Sean, anyway, not knowing his friend was weird about animals) but now seemed the perfect time to rectify this situation.

Anita held out one of the small bundles of fur. "This breed has a sweet disposition," She explained lovingly as Josh hesitantly reached out to stroke behind floppy ears. "They make good pets, especially if you have children."

Josh shook his head, "No children. Just me. It's adorable." He added as the rabbit lifted it's head to nose at his hand.

"She," Anita smiled, "Her name is Cotton Tail."

Josh returned the smile, allowing Cotton Tail to sniff at his finger tips. "She is adorable, then," He corrected himself, "Pardon me for calling you an it, Ms. Cotton Tail. I hope you'll forgive me."

The rabbit twitched her nose at him.

"I think that's a yes," Anita laughed.

Josh straightened, giving Cotton Tail one last pat on the head. "And I think I'll take her."

A rabbit wasn't a boyfriend or even a friend. A rabbit couldn't hold a conversation on the economy or Israel. And a rabbit needed to be fed and watered and have its hutch cleaned.

But a rabbit also made the apartment a little less lonely and that was what mattered.

[Joshua Bernstein]

2002

---

Josh squinted at the menu, barely able to make out the tiny words scrawled across it.

The man across from him casually slid his own menu toward the table's edge. "You really ought to think about getting your eyes checked." He offered in a tone of voice that suggested they'd had this conversation before.

"I don't need glasses," Josh snapped irritably, bringing the menu closer so that it almost touched his nose. "I can read just fine."

His companion shrugged, grinning. "No, you can't. Face it, Joshua, you can't see."

"I can see! This menu is just written in a tiny font. And the lighting is dim, if the lighting were better I'd be able to read the menu."

"You're such a terrible liar."

"....I'm not lying, I can see. It's the light. It's definitely the light. And anyway, I don't see you rushing out to get your eyes examined and you nearly ran over that family in the crosswalk on the way over."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I drive a cab. We're required to almost run people over, it's part of our exam."

"....Now who's lying?"

---

Two weeks later, Josh had ditched the boyfriend.

And three weeks later?

He had a new pair of glasses.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh stared down at the paper clutched in his hand, giant red fifty scrawled across the top. It had gradually been getting worse and worse and the young man who had once been proud of his A and B average was barely scraping by. The grades were merely a symptom of how horribly wrong everything had gone; that was the catalyst for barging into Matt's apartment uninvited, but not the topic of interest.

"It just hurts so much," He announced with a sigh, not even thinking of giving Matt an explanation.

The older boy quirked an eyebrow at him from his seat on the other side of the room. "I think you'll survive one bad test score."

Josh continued to twist his paper anxiously. "It's not that," he began, and then lapsed into silence, frowning down at his lap. After a moment he sighed again. "Matt, have you ever loved someone so much it hurt?"

The wide-eyed look on Matt's face stated clearly that this was an unexpected conversational direction. "No." He replied after a moment, "if it hurts it isn't love."

"But what else could it be? What if you just need the other person, and you can't live without them? Then every time you're spent apart hurts so much and...and..." and because you could barely stand to be apart for even the time it took to do homework you failed all your classes.

"Need isn't love, Josh." Matt warned, expression changing from shock to caution while his younger brother spilled forth his worries. "If you can't live without her you're not in love, you're a parasite."


Josh's head snapped up, a look of horror crossing his face. "No." He couldn't be a parasite, they were in love. And it hurt. A lot. He'd always imagined love would be closer to what his parents had, laughter and smiles. And it was. Sometimes. But most of the time it was a jumble of conflicting negative emotions: pain at being apart warred with suffocation, desire for praise and affection warred with a desire for autonomy, for Sean to stop ruffling his hair like he was a pet and to stop all the time speaking to him in imperatives. They were politely worded imperatives, but imperatives nonetheless. And he wanted Sean's attention even when he just wanted to be left alone.

But he didn't know how to say any of that and so instead he balled his test up in his fist, pressing his mouth into a thin line. "I just don't know what to do. I can't flunk out, mom'll kill me."

Grades were an easy shield to hide behind, a way to avoid discussing any of the actual issues at hand.

"Josh." Matt moved to stand beside Josh, placing one hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't know this girl, but nobody is worth losing your identity in. No matter how much you think you're in love with her, you can get over it. Just dump her."

Josh dropped his eyes downward once again. He didn't like that solution. "Dump her?" He repeated. Even the thought made him feel sick. "I can't do that! You don't understand, we're in love, Matt. In love. And sometimes love hurts, mom and dad's relationship isn't perfect."

"Mom and dad aren't gonna die without one another." Matt pointed out.

"Maybe they are! You don't know! I'll bet they need one another. Our relationship isn't that bad. Sea.....she's the only reason I have friends. And she's taught me a lot. Come on, Matt, just because I want to be with her all the time isn't a bad thing. That's what love is supposed to be like, right?"

"No, of course it isn't! Not all the time. That's not healthy. Have you been watching too many Disney movies or what? If you don't have a life outside your girlfriend then something is wrong."

"I haven't watched any Disney movies lately. That's not the kind of movies she likes to watch."

"Case in point."

Could he break up with Sean and still keep the older boy in his life? Maybe if they were friends but not dating then all the twisted up gut feelings would go away. They could have the laughter and the smiles and the protests and enjoy one another's company without the desperate need and longing and suffocation. And without the poor grades.

Because he couldn't cut him out completely. He needed Sean. Matt didn't seem to get that. But Matt didn't know that he was with Sean, seemed to think he was talking about some girl he just hadn't bothered to bring around to meet the family. If he knew it was Sean maybe he would understand. At least, if he could get over the fact that Sean was a boy maybe he would understand.

The big problem was, could he get Sean to understand that? Breaking up sounded like a permanent end rather than just an attempt to repair what had gone wrong.

"I don't know why I'm asking you." He pushed himself off the couch, face grim. Asking Matt for advice had been a terrible idea; how could he even consider breaking up with Sean? He felt guilty for even toying with Matt's suggestion. Matt's awful]/i] suggestion. "When you get a girlfriend maybe you'll understand. It's not that easy."

There were somethings that were just facts of life. One day Matt would realize that he was wrong.

Love wasn't love if it didn't hurt.

OOC: Kayla. this is for you because you demanded it asked so nicely.

[Joshua Bernstein]

A Series of Questionnaires

---

If You...

Visit any place in the world, where would you go?
I would really love to visit Rome and see all the places Tacitus mentions.

Change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I
suppose sometimes I wish I could talk directly to people about how I feel about them.

Fly, where would you go and why?
Hammel because they kidnap people with that kind of power.

Make three wishes, what would you wish for?
1. World Peace. Cliche, but true
2. For Sean to reconcile with his sister
3. For public schools to have the facilities and training to educate meta students alongside non-metas

Meet someone from the past, who would you meet?
Oh, my, this is really difficult! There are so many people I would love to talk to. I think if I could only choose one person then that would be FDR so I could quiz him about the New Deal and how he would apply that to today's society.

Have any pet what would you have?
I have a rabbit and she's perfect.

---

Beliefs

Magic?
I believe that what is considered magic can be attributed to meta-human abilities.

Karma?
Yes

Love at first sight?
No, but attraction, certainly

Life on other planets?
No

Miracles?
No

Ghosts?
No

Luck?
That's actually a meta ability, it's referred to as Probability Manipulation. One of Sean's friends has it, apparently.

Believe there’s a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow?
No

Do you wish on stars?
Sometimes....

Do you believe in the traditional view of Heaven and Hell?
No

Divorce?
Yes, of course, if you don't get along you shouldn't be married.

---

Questions For Freaks

If the sky wasn’t blue and the grass wasn’t green… What colours would they be? Well, sometimes when I look up the sky is purple or orange or grey and the grass is brown.

Which end of the worm is the head? The....front?

Why don’t boys have boobs? We don't breast feed infants...

What languages does hippos speak? Hipponese?

If you run in the rain do you get less wet? I usually operate on that assumption

What shape was the last cloud you saw? I thought it looked rather a lot like Anderson Cooper.

Why do sprouts taste so bad? They taste BAD? I thought they were simply tasteless

Where does that other sock end up? I think that the man down the street with transdimensional storage accidentally took it.

Is Santa real? If he is, he never visited me. Possibly this is because I'm Jewish.

Is a dog man's best friend? No, a telepath is, obviously.

---

Personal Survey

Do you go to the bathroom with the door open or closed?
Closed. Force of habit, I suppose

Are your underwear and socks folded in your drawer or just thrown in?
They're lucky to make it out of the laundry basket and into the drawer

Sleep on your back or stomach?
Stomach

Are you a cuddler?
When drunk, definitely. When sober, let's say that cuddles are similar to feelings, I have to work at them.

What would I find if I looked UNDER your bed?
A pair of shoes, a lost sock or two, the body of the last person to disagree with me =p

Something that happened today that made you angry?
I overheard someone refer to meta-humans as "mutants"

What were you doing before this survey?
Reading The New York Times

What will you do after the survey?
Try and entice Sean with beer and cake.

Marriage or living together?
....At this moment it's definitely living together.

What shirt are you wearing now?
Uhhh. It's a short-sleeved, blue-on-blue plaid dress shirt. The tag claims it is linen and by Perry Ellis.

Do you sing?
Sometimes

Do you de-label your beer bottles?
This...has never occurred to me..

Do you talk about your feelings or hide them?
Feelings on what? Everyone knows my feelings on politics. Hide them! Unless they are dragged out of me. And, okay, I may have promised to talk about them but that doesn't mean I like it.

Is there something you regret and wish you could take back?
Isn't this true for everyone? I managed somehow to fix my biggest regret. Still haven't apologized to Dr. Jones yet, though....

First thing you do when you wake up?
Turn off the alarm.

Ever had surgery?
Yes, but nothing major. Tonsils out, wisdom teeth removed.

Last argument you got into with?
A woman at the bookstore. She was buying a Glenn Beck book, I had to.

Do you tend to rip the paper off water bottles?
I assume you mean bottled water, not plastic thermals? No.

What's one good thing about your best friend?
What, only one thing? He puts up with me, hahaha.

How long does it take for you to fall asleep at night?
I wait until I can't hold my eyes open, then I drag myself off to bed and fall asleep immediately

When you shut off your alarm clock, do you tend to fall back asleep?
....this may happen on occasion...

If you were given the chance to take care of a monkey for a weekend, would you?
Sure!

What are you looking forward to in the next few months?
Sean is threatening to drag me to a concert in Boston sometime. That should be fun.

It's midnight. Who are you texting?
I don't text. I am probably calling Sean to tell him I need a ride home from the bar.

It's Wednesday afternoon, where are you usually?
Wherever the people are.

Honestly, if you could have ANYONE in the world, who would it be?
The one I'm with. I know, I know, I'm so boring.

Your Christmas list consists of?
I don't celebrate Christmas.

You're going to New York for school shopping, where do you go first?
I go to my sister's to ask her for help.

You need a new pair of jeans, what store do you go to first?
I don't wear jeans. But let's assume I do, I'll probably try and brave Queens Place Mall...

How do you feel about your hair?
I'm 51 and it isn't grey yet, so pretty good. Thank you, hair.

What movie is in your DVD player?
I don't even own a DVD player.

If you could move away, no questions asked, where would you move?
Everyone I care about is here. If they would move with me, back to NYC.

How much do looks matter to you in a guy/girl?
A good conversationalist is more important.

What's the greatest thing that happened to you today?
I had lunch with Sean.

How many TRUE best friends do you have?
Sean, Cobalt and Riley. Haha. Sean is definitely the closest/oldest/best but I know I can count on Riley and Cobalt as well.

What would you change about your life right now?
About MY life? Nothing I can think of.

What’s the best feeling in the world?
Contentment. Being surrounded by friends and good food and solving all the problems of the world.

---

Do You...

Sing Well? I don't sing as poorly as Sean, but that's not saying much

Believe In Yourself? In some areas.

Get Motion Sickness? No

Think You Are Attractive? I look like an average guy

Like Thunderstorms? Not really

Own An IPOD? No

Pray? Not regularly

Keep A Journal/Diary? No

Sing In The Shower? Ahahahahahahahahaha..............yes

Chew on your pencils? I did when I was in school

Like your handwriting? I can read it. I'm not sure anyone else can.

Cry at weddings? No

Like Camping? Depends on who I'm with

Wear nail polish? .........no

Do you trust anyone with your life. If so, who? Sean

Do you like to watch storms pass by? No

---

Either Or

Sparking or still water: Still

Kisses or hugs: ....how much have I had to drink?

Piercings or tattoos: For myself? I have a tattoo, but no piercings. But I once knew a very charming young man who had a pierced ear...

Hot or cold: Cold! What better excuse for hot chocolate and blankets?

Nike or Adidas: I rarely wear tennis shoes, but when I do I generally prefer Newbalance

Cats or dogs: Dogs

The US or the UK: I have never been to the UK, but I live in the US so I shall go with what I know here.

McDonalds or Burger King: Whichever is closest when I'm hungry

Church or nightclub: Not being Christian but being fond of alcohol, we'll go with Nightclub.

Mariah or Madonna: ....what?

Beer or soda: Beer

Rock or rap: Oldies. Hey, I'm an old fogey.

Winter or summer: Summer; it's easier to bike without snow (although it is also hot, alas)

Sun or rain: Sun. See above

Love or lust: Don't they usually come in combination?

Pepsi or Coke: I don't drink soda

Love or money: Love of your fellow man

Indiana Jones or James Bond: Indiana Jones.

Sweet or sour: Sweet

Night or day: Night

Originality or acceptance: Acceptance

Independence or Companionship: Up until recently I would have said independence, but things change

Stability or Freedom: I can't have both? Just don't keep me on too tight a leash so I can pretend to be free sometimes. ;]

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Wicked or RENT: Never seen either

Music or Television: Music

Blondes or Brunettes: Brunette

Birds or Squirrels: Squirrels

Car or Truck: Bicycle

Driving or Riding: Riding

Mexican or Chinese food: Mexican

Pie or cake? Pie. Assuming Riley and Anya are baking.

Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate

Smile or frown? Smile

Tears of joy or tears of sorrow? Joy

Past or present? I easily get stuck in the past, but I try to live in the present.

Science fiction or fantasy? Historical fiction

Dull or sharp? Dull

Live forever or die young? I'm too old to die young, but I certainly don't wish to live forever

Books or television? Books

Jump or skip? Skip

Fast or slow? Fast

Run or walk? Walk

Disney or Warner Brothers? I've never given this much thought. Warner Brothers, perhaps?

Belle or Jasmine? My niece Abigail tells me that Belle is an avid reader but Jasmine helps the people...I suppose Jasmine?

Gaston or Cruella Deville? Gaston. Arrogance is preferable to evil

Colors or black and white? Colors

Cute or pretty? Cute

Good or evil? Good

Fruits or vegetables? Fruits

Milk or juice? Milk

Hot chocolate or gingerale? Hot Chocolate

Beer or wine? Beer

Movies or cartoons? Since I can recall the last time I watched a movie but not the last time I watched a cartoon, I'll say movie

Moon or stars? Stars

Sky or sea? Sea

Vision or hearing? Hearing

[Joshua Bernstein]

More Questions

---

1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Uhhh, however I happen to have left them. Sometimes that means closed, sometimes open. I think I usually have them open? I haven't paid that much attention.

2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel? That's theft! I can't believe you would even ask that!

3. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? Uhhh, they start off tucked in, but they don't stay that way....

4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before? Again with the theft, and this time from the government. Have you no shame?

5. Do you like to use post-it notes? Not particularly, no

6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? I don't even use coupons.

7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees? To be honest, the bees seem less...lethal

8. Do you have freckles? No

9. Do you always smile for pictures? If I'm sober and realize my picture is being taken.....no.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve? People who don't stop to think about how the labels they use effect other people

11. Do you ever count your steps when you walk? ....this never occurred to me, but I guarantee you next time I walk somewhere I will be counting my steps.

12. Have you ever peed in the woods? I don't want to talk about it.

13. What about pooped in the woods? I said I don't want to talk about it

14. Do you ever dance even if theres no music playing? But the music was playing in my head.

15. Do you chew your pens and pencils? I did when I was in school. Not as much any more.

16. How many people have you slept with this week? One. I am monogamous.

17. What size is your bed? Big enough

18. What is your Song of the week? Oh What a Thrill by The Mavericks. Do I look like I keep up with new music?

19. Is it okay for guys to wear pink? There is a social stigma that is rooted in homophobia and misogyny. It's very distressing that our modern society, despite the great strides we've made, is still fighting against hetero- and -cisnormative gender distinctions.

20. Do you still watch cartoons? I do not.

21. Whats your least favorite movie? I...movie....uhhh....I don't watch enough movies to be able to answer this. I'm sure I've seen some awful ones, but I managed to forget I saw them.

22. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? Absolutely not, I would distribute it to those in need.

23. What do you drink with dinner? Whatever alcohol is available

24. What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Ranch dressing

25. What is your favorite food? Pimento cheese sandwiches

26. What movies could you watch over and over and still love? To Have and Have Not. Sean knows why.

27. Last person you kissed/kissed you? Sean

28. Were you ever a boy/girl scout? Absolutely not, I can't believe you would suggest such a thing >|

29. Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? If it was guaranteed that by doing so world peace would be achieved, absolutely

30. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? I.....that is a very good question. The last time I can remember was several years ago, when Noah had his tonsils out.

31. Can you change the oil on a car? I unfortunately am quite useless when it comes to cars.

32. Ever gotten a speeding ticket? I don't drive, so no!

33. Ran out of gas? See above

34. Favorite kind of sandwich? Pimento cheese

35 Best thing to eat for breakfast? ....what is breakfast again?

36. What is your usual bedtime? Midnight

37. Are you lazy? Excuse me? I expend so much effort trying to improve the rights of my fellow man, I don't have time for petty activities like housework.

38. When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? Abraham Lincoln

39. What is your Chinese astrological sign? Let me just copy and paste this from the website I looked up just now because I had no idea:

THE METAL RAT 1900 AND 1960
Of all the Rats, these are the toughest and most resolute. They are visionary and possess an emotional intensity that can lead to feelings of rage, envy, or possessiveness. They like to be in charge, and can act selfishly to get what they want. In relationships, business or personal, they can be obstinate. Metal rats have to bear in mind that meeting their partner halfway would help their relationships tremendously. They take great pride in their homes and enjoy decorating them in their impressively good taste.

40. How many languages can you speak? English. A bit of Latin thanks to school, and a bit of Hebrew though I admit to not keeping up with that like I should have. I wish my father had taught me some German.

41. Do you have any magazine subscriptions? Newsweek, Mother Jones

42..Which are better legos or lincoln logs? I have no opinion on this hot button issue

43. Are you stubborn? I've been called such on occasion

44. Who is better...Leno or Letterman? Leno, undoubtedly

45. Ever watch soap operas? Umm. no.

46. Afraid of heights? Not particularly, no

47. Sing in the car? It's been known to happen.

48. Dance in the shower? I would slip and break my neck

49. Dance in the car? My use of the seatbelt makes this a bit difficult

50. Ever used a gun? Absolutely not, what do you take me for? Guns should be banned.

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? When I graduated Law school, my mother was quite adamant

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? Oh, absolutely, but that's what makes them fun.

53. Is Christmas stressful? You know, I am a bit tired of these questions that assume that I celebrate Christmas.

....

But to answer your question, yes, because everyone assumes I celebrate Christmas

54. Ever eat a pierogi? My mother has a wonderful recipe, in fact!

55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Keylime

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Journalist, activist, lawyer. Look at that!

57. Do you believe in ghosts? No.

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? AHAHAHAHA....yes

59. Take a vitamin daily? No, but maybe I should start.

60. Wear slippers? No, bare feet are fine. Or socks if it is cold.

61. Wear a bath robe? ....don't even own one.

62. What do you wear to bed? Uhhh....my.....boxers.....

63. First concert? Simon and Garfunkel

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? .....................................none, what do I look like!

65. Nike or Adidas? This again? I already said Newbalance

66.Cheetos Or Fritos? Fritos

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Peanuts

68. Ever hear of the group Tres Bien? ....no

69. Ever take dance lessons? Never

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? I'm living with a school counselor, that's close enough, right?

71. Can you curl your tongue? Indeed!

72. Ever won a spelling bee? Alas, no

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Once

74. Own any record albums? The Mavericks, The Mamas and the Papas, The Moody Blues...Kate Bush....

75. Own a record player? I do.

76. Regularly burn incense? No, but I have burned a flag or three

77. Ever been in love? -erk- Feelings. Can't deal with...can't....dying...yes, yes, I have, are you satisfied, you can stop prying now.

78. Who would you like to see in concert? Dennis Kucinich or Howard Dean

79. What was the last concert you saw? ....Simon and Garfunkel

80.Hot tea or cold tea? Cold

81.Tea or coffee? Coffee

82. Sugar or snickerdoodles? Snickerdoodles

83.Can you swim well? I can swim tolerably well, don't want to drown if Sean kicks me overboard when we're out sailing.

84.Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Can't everyone?

85. Are you patient? It...depends on the situation. I'm persistent, certainly, but I don't think that's exactly the same.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ

87.Ever won a contest? Yes, I won a design a poster contest in middle school. And there was that time in college with the Radicals...

88. Ever have plastic surgery? No

89. Which are better black or green olives? Green, definitely. Black are rather bland

90.Can you knit or crochet? No

91. Best room for a fireplace? The den, of course

92. Do you want to get married? There are definitely good reasons for it and thiiiiis is a loaded question right now.

93. If married, how long have you been married? N/A

94. Who was your HS crush? Teddy Kennedy. >.><.<

95. Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? ....I....have been accused of this....

96. Do you have kids? No

97. Do you want kids? I can take them or leave them, but I know someone who would like them.

98. Whats your favorite color? Green

99. Do you miss anyone right now? Ha! The person who matters is sitting next to me as I fill this out, so no. Though I do sometimes miss my father

100. Did you watch, Next Great American Band on FOX? What now?

[Joshua Bernstein]

Noah is doing a project for school and wanted me to take the Myers-Briggs test, so here are my results....

Your Type is
ENFP
Extraverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiving
Strength of the preferences %
67 62 50 33

Apparently this makes me a Champion and an Inspirer which is what I endeavor to be in my public life, at least, so this pleases me.

Apparently this means I'm enthusiastic and people like me (that's nice to know, thank you, unspecified people) and I stick by my ideals. And apparently I let other people take care of the mundane tasks while I'm off saving the world (sorry, Sean, that may....that may actually be how this works, I'll try to help out more.)

I'm really not sure what I think about this test telling me I have no follow through for my projects and that I don't think things through....oh, I can talk myself out of anything? I thought that was just because of my wonderful rhetoric skills thanks to law school.

....I never jump to the wrong conclusions, I don't know what these people are talking about.

Although it is definitely true that I don't like being restricted and enjoy my freedom.

Well, I suppose their summary isn't too bad:

ENFPs are charming, ingenuous, risk-taking, sensitive, people-oriented individuals with capabilities ranging across a broad spectrum. They have many gifts which they will use to fulfill themselves and those near them, if they are able to remain centered and master the ability of following through.

Thank you, people on the internet for your overwhelming insight into my personality.

......................pssst, Sean, how accurate is this test, anyway?

[Joshua Bernstein]

December, 1995

The entire office laughed at him when he'd made his intentions known.

"It isn't that funny," he snapped in annoyance.

"But this is Josh," Karen attempted to hide her snickering behind one hand.

"He just doesn't seem your type," Blake offered diplomatically.

"Don't you think he's waiting for that doctor friend of his to be single again? He doesn't shut up about him." Jackson was more direct.

Nick scowled at all of them. "Just because he has a crush doesn't mean anything," he had protested. "Lots of people have crushes and nothing comes of them."

Blake looked pained at this. "It is your decision, of course."

"I'll bet you a hundred dollars he talks about Sean the whole time." Jackson grinned.

"If he agrees to go on a date I'll buy you dinner for a week," Karen added. "I'm pretty sure he's been single forever because he's holding out, not because nobody's asked."

Nick jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'm going to ask him right now. Right now. I'll take those bets."

He sauntered over towards Josh's office, where his crush was busily filling out paperwork. "Hey."

Josh glanced up, an expression of delight crossing his face at seeing another person there to talk to. Nick told himself that the other attorney was particularly happy to see him; they'd spent a lot of time taking during breaks and he was sure he could count on some affection now. He just hoped that this could translate into something more.

Sure, Josh could be a little oblivious, but he was kind and he was cute and anyway he could probably be taught to be a little better and maybe he would be more attentive to a date than he was otherwise.

"Nick!" Josh set his paperwork to one side, gesturing for the smaller man to join him in his office. "I was just working on the Saunders case. What a headache that is." A grimace accompanies this remark, replaced quickly by a smile of appreciation. "It's nice of you to come rescue me from my work."

Nick leaned up against the door frame, trying for casual despite the rapid drumbeat inside his chest. Josh was happy to see him. That was encouraging; that was exciting.

"Yeah?" Nick asked, none of his nerves showing. "You know, I was thinking...there's this new Thai place that just opened up down the corner from me. We should have dinner some time. Then we could, I don't know, head back to my place after."

That didn't sound as confident as he'd intended, but Josh didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he was just being polite by not reacting to it. Either way, the smile and excited "I would love to!" made asking worth it.

---

When the day of The Date came Nick found himself full of butterflies. Although he had spent time with Josh outside of work, it had still been in a work context: parties with coworkers and drinks after office hours. This was the first time they would see one another in any more intimate capacity.

He glanced down at his watch, one foot tapping nervously as he waited for his date to show up.

And waited.

And waited.

Fifteen minutes after they were supposed to meet his phone rang, an apologetic Josh on the other end. "I'm running a little behind. I got on the wrong subway..."

Another twenty minutes and, to his relief, Josh stumbled through the door. Nick waved him over to the booth he had snagged, standing and offering to take the other man's jacket.

Josh waved him away. "There's no need to make such a fuss." He said, sliding into the booth. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting! I got a call from Sean while I was waiting for the subway, and I was so distracted that I boarded the first one to pull into the station."

"Oh." He replied, a sense of foreboding settling upon him. "And how's he doing?"

It only seemed polite to ask, even if he felt that the mention of Sean so early into the date spelled doom for his efforts.

"Oh, he's doing great."

Josh didn't sound very happy that his best friend was doing great. Nick was afraid to follow up, but he didn't have to; Josh continued unbidden.

"He was getting ready for some yearly town holiday party. It's nice that they say holiday, even if the timing is obvious." That seemed to be an aside, as he quickly returned to the topic of Sean. "He's going with Sam"

Nick replied hesitantly. "I hope they have a good time."

Josh scowled at his menu. "I'm sure they will. The town had better hope she keeps out of everyone else's business. She's so meddlesome, and she acts like she knows everything. But she absolutely doesn't!"

This was declared with a vehemence that caused Nick to suspect there was a story there, but he really didn't want to talk about this on what was supposed to be a date. He decided to attempt a subject change. "I hear the pad Thai here is excellent. Maybe we could share a plate...?"

Josh looked surprised at the suggestion. "Share...? I don't usually share with anyone but Sean. Wouldn't that be weird?'

That sense of foreboding clawed it's way back up his throat as Nick asked, "no, why?"

"If you don't think it would be too weird then I don't mind."

But now that Josh had said it, it did feel weird. And the entire date felt uncomfortably as if they were having two different outings. Nick tried to push this aside and enjoy himself, but it was difficult when Sean kept coming up in conversation and nothing was as cozy as he'd anticipated.

"I'll pay." Nick covered the bill with one hand when the waiter dropped it off. "After all, I asked you."

Josh scoffed at this. "Don't be absurd! What is this, a date? I make enough money to pay for a meal, you know that."

Nick felt his heart drop. "Yeah. I guess you're right. We can split it."