The Chill-out Lounge

“Juuuuliet,” Olivier cries as he bursts into my room. Pronouncing my name normally is simply never an option for my brother. This time he has chosen to take on a proper upper-east side intonation thereby stressing the "Ju" -- quite dear, quite. Before I am able to shoo him out, he flops onto my already messy bed and nonchalantly asks, “So what’s going on?” “What do you think is going on? What has been going on for the past month?” I retort annoyed.

Sigh. I have been locked in my room since August 5^th desperately trying to train my brain to think inside the box. In order to comply with my “serious” plan of applying to graduate schools, I must unfortunately conform. Isn’t the whole point of the application to prove that you stand out, that you know how to think outside the box? These imposed standardized tests do anything but that. In fact, I’m fairly certain I’ve gotten stupider since studying for the thing. “You’re thinking too creatively,” my tutor told me the other day. So let me get this straight: since my mindset is too creative, I will undoubtedly miss the obvious answer (because the obvious answer is never correct in my world), and thus fail the test, thereby hurting my chances of getting into a decent school ... finally leading to the one inevitable fatal conclusion -- I have effectively ruined my career. Ok, now I'm being dramatic.

Clearly, my opinion is of no consequence, so whether I like it or not, I must at least try to beat the system… Suffice to say that my house is the most inappropriate choice for taking practice tests, as it lacks the peace and quiet I need. The gods must genuinely be against my studying because wherever I attempt to take a practice-test, whether it be at my friend's office or at my neighbor's house, something is bound to happen -- the Internet shuts down, the phones ring, the dog barks, what's next, seriously!? Perhaps I should try the local monastery? I mean, isn't peace supposed to be the monk's M.O.? I guess this means they probably don't have wi-fi... Damn! It seems easy, but truly is there such a thing as a quiet and connected place on this planet?! And trust me, do not suggest the Larchmont library. Last time I tried, I was kicked out by 30 screaming 4-year-olds taking a gym class in the middle of the library -- no joke. Several mental breakdowns and existential crises later, I have come to terms with the fact that my room is the only place I can count on... well sort of.

“Why don’t you just take the damn thing already? I mean at a certain point, you gotta just bite the bullet you know,” replies my new de-facto life counselor. Olivier is my little brother who no longer looks so little anymore. In fact, just as my sister and I now look like twins, Olivier looks older than me. looks. And perhaps wishes. Just as I came home from Thailand last spring, this not so little brother of mine graduated from college, thus making me feel suddenly old. Worse, with our simultaneous returns, our house has become full for the first time in years. Cozy think you? That’s what I thought in far off Chiang Rai last year. I don’t think anyone had even the slightest idea of the not-so-charming reality of all five of us being back together, stubborn personalities and all. Seven long years have come and gone since the last time we all lived together. Victoria became accustomed at being the alleged only child, Olivier became a slob, and I… well…

“Olivier, don’t you have work to do?” Not only have we all moved back home, but much to my mother’s dismay, my brother and I are always here. While I’m studying hard to get out, Olivier, well, we don’t really think he wants to leave anytime soon. Apart from the hourly screaming fights he has with my mother, I have come to believe that Olivier is loving living and working from home.

Yes, not only has he moved back home, but he also works from no other but his room, just down the hall from mine. His room has become his office, while mine has become his chill-out lounge. Every dead moment in his exhausting day is spent unwinding on my bed…kicking off his shoes, never forgetting, of course, to leave them in my room for me to inhale their delightful perfume. Mmmm, so inspiring, really. Hey, maybe smelly shoes are the answer to the GMAT?

I detect a proud little smirk on Olivier’s face as he announces, “Juliet, I’ve sold 3 cases today.” Apart from the whole work-at-home situation, I must admit, Olivier’s new job is pretty sweet – he works for a wine importer in sales. Essentially, his job consists of lunching at expensive restaurants, hosting wine tastings…and the like – poor baby! Even better though, we all benefit from his perks. Free wine, free expensive luncheons. My younger brother regularly takes me out to work lunches… yet I am still unable to afford myself a sandwich, nice.

Truth be told, for all my complaining, I’m grateful my brother is here. After living across the globe from each other these past few years, I welcome our reunion under our childhood roof as a blessing… in disguise maybe, but a blessing nonetheless. I mean, if it weren’t for him, I would definitely be rotting in the depths of my room. My social outings are limited to those with my brother, but how can I complain when he takes me to free elaborate luncheons? Once in a while, we go all out to the local Bistro Citron, a new bar/restaurant in the area and another client of my brother’s -- the kid's actually pretty good at what he does. Thanks to him, drinks there are always on the house. Umm, does this mean we have become townies!?