#57, Shawn.

Shawn spelled his name the girls' way, which was awesome. He was my sister's friend, through Heather, really. Always wearing a black baseball cap, plaid flannel and light-colored jeans, although the band t-shirt underneath would change often enough; usually a metal theme. Always a pack of cigarettes (Camels?) and a Zippo in his pocket. Shawn smiled a lot, smoked a lot of pot, and had quite a drawl from an upbringing somewhere in the midwest. He worked at an aquarium in Albany (CA) for a long time, and had been married and had a kid a few years before we met him. His daughter's name was Stormy, which frankly is one of the most beautiful names i can think of. He had fake front teeth, from jumping off of a roof into a pool, and missing, when he was a teenager. Ouch. He had no sense of smell because of gas rushing up past a faulty gas cap (the tank was between his legs) when he was motor-biking somewhere once. It went straight into his nostrils, with force. He eventually moved to Montana after visiting there with my sister at some point. He had 2 kids with the younger sister of the girl he initially lived with for years. Drama, drama! Such a nice guy, though, Shawn. He did a lot for people. Can't think of a bad thing to say about him, really. Miss him a lot sometimes.

#56, Jesse G.

Jesse was another of my mom's friends when i was in high school, although he was more like a friend-of-a-friend. Thank god, too, because i don't think i would have been able to stand it if he had been around any more than he was.
Easily 6 and a half feet tall, and with a springy mop of curly brown hair, Jesse was one cocky mutha. He always wore jeans and some kind of gutsy jacket, to go with his rockstar persona. Problem was, Jesse was a drunk. A mean one. And a frequent one, unfortunately. He would often be the person passed out on the couch in the morning, and i know that some of you know what i mean. He was loud and obnoxious and arrogant. Once, i was in the bath, and suddenly the bathroom door comes flying open (it didn't have a lock) and in swaggers Jesse, drunk out of his mind. I freaked out, grabbed the shower curtain and tried to cover myself up, screaming at him to get out, get out. But he didn't. "Relax...." he said, "it's nothing i haven't seen before." and proceeded to empty his bladder while i cowered behind the shower curtain. Good times.

#55, The Other Ananda.

The other Ananda was actually the first Ananda. He was a friend of my mom's when i was in high school; during the days when she still drank and stayed up all night with all sorts of interesting characters. He had dark brown skin, and was from Canada, but i think his ancestry was Japanese, somewhere. He mumbled erratically when he spoke, and always had a mess of black, tousled hair flying around his face, which made him difficult to understand most times. But he was damned entertaining. Always drinking whiskey and beer, playing cards or talking about literature or movies or records. He was a smart (but decidedly goofy) guy, and eventually moved back to Canada to work in the film industry. Sometimes he wrote my mom (and us) snail mail letters, which were always greatly appreciated. i loved him for that. Hope all is well with you, Ananda.

#54, Ananda.

The tiny, self-confident, ultra-blonde girl who worked part-time at the Meadows for a couple years. Ananda was definitely more interesting than anyone would've ever guessed. She had lived for some years in the U.S. Virgin Islands, where she collected rainwater on her roof to shower with (awesome!). Then she lived in Minneapolis, and when i knew her she lived near Lake Merritt in Oakland with her boyfriend Todd, who worked in the music recording biz. This was great because she gave me a promo CD for the (then-) new Massive Attack album, 100th Window. And once she gave me a Jane's Addiction t-shirt that slowly became one of my favorite articles of clothing. Her eyes were bluest blue, and every time we got Monkshood in at the shop (which wasn't very often), Ananda would remind me of how poisonous it was. "Just remember Heather- you need to wash your hands after you touch it." It was so cute! One of her favorite stories is one of mine to remember: Once while in the Virgin Islands, on the beach, she witnessed a fat (probably American) tourist in a Speedo walking along the shore with a boombox up to his ear, blasting the song "Hot Hot Hot" by Buster Poindexter. Oh, it's so bad it's good!! Thanks, Ananda.

#53, Prima C.

Prima was a ballerina. And no, i'm not writing a rock song here, people- it's the honest-to-goodness truth. She came to work at the flower shop a few months before i left, all coltish and pretty, brimming with energy and smiles. She was 16 going on 17, carried herself quite precociously but with a twinge of self-doubt that broke that whole wall down. She wore lipstick, and her brown hair was always back in a bun. She had a very grand, idealistic way of speaking, and i would definitely say Prima was starry-eyed, but i loved that about her. It was very endearing to someone as jaded as i was. Turns out her house had been lost in the Oakland Hills Fire in 1991, when she was just a few years old (i was eleven when it happened, and it shaped me forever). My bf and i went to see her dance in a ballet performance once, and she was so amazed that i showed up. It was adorable, and she was fantastic. Truly has a career ahead of her; if not in ballet, then in any damn thing she chooses. She's that girl. Go Prima!