Page 10 of Spinning Out Of Control

"Just so you know, my husband and I are appalled by the language that comes out of your filthy mouth. You should be ashamed. You ruined our breakfast," she seethes, and I make a mental note to frown less so I don't wind up with the same deep lines she has between her eyebrows. This woman seems like the type that's looking for a fight, so I decide to kill her with kindness.

Well, maybe not kindness. More like feigned ignorance.

"Oh my god," I sigh, placing a hand over my heart. "I'm so flattered. I can't believe I had such an impact on your life. That makes me feel so wonderful and important." I give the woman my biggest, fakest smile. I didn't think it was possible, but her eyebrow lines get even deeper as she scowls. Her nose crinkles, and her mouth sputters like she wants to come back at me with something, but she storms off towards the door.

I flick my hair over my shoulder and turn back to my girls.

"You just make friends everywhere you go, don't you?" Rachel says with an affectionate roll of her eyes, and I shrug. I'm not everyone's cup of tea, that's for sure. My dads raised me to be a strong, independent, confident woman who takes no shit from anyone. It can be a difficult thing to balance considering my job andlast name have made me a public figure of sorts. I have to be careful to not portray myself as rude or ungrateful, even when I feel like being rude and ungrateful. You never know when someone has a camera pointed at you and will try to smear your reputation on the internet. But it's not like I'm going out of my way to piss people off. It just happens sometimes.

"People like that are only looking for a negative reaction. She wanted me to get pissed off at her and make a scene or crawl in on myself out of shame. I'm not going to give her the satisfaction just because she couldn't keep her listening ears to herself."

“Hear, fucking hear," Dottie says, lifting her glass to the middle of the table. The rest of us clink and sip, just in time for our server to pop the cork on another bottle of bubbly.

One of myfavorite things about living in San Francisco is how wonderfully weird it is. From the residents to the landscape to the climate, you never know what you’re going to get from block to block in this city.

I love how that wonderful weirdness is reflected in the colors and variety of the homes in the city, especially in my neighborhood. Haight-Ashbury is best known for being the hub of hippie culture in the sixties,home to iconic musicians from Janis Joplin to Jimi Hendrix to The Grateful Dead. It's arguably San Francisco's most recognizable neighborhood, made famous by the Painted Ladies—a row of Easter egg-colored Victorian homes that line Hayes Street in front of Alamo Square Park, where the Tanner clan picnic in the opening title of Full House. I’m lucky enough to live right here in the heart of it all.

As I walk up the steps to my house, I'm reminded that the free spirit vibes still flow freely in this little slice of brightly colored heaven in the middle of the city. When I first found the gorgeous pastel pink Victorian with the yellow shutters on the corner of Masonic Avenue, I felt immediately pulled in by the house's 'in-your-face' kind of charm, and I knew that this neighborhood was the one for me. I met with a realtor who told me that the house had been owned for fifty years by a woman named Meadow.

Meadow was best known in the neighborhood for throwing loud parties, shuffling through famous lovers like a deck of cards, and letting neighborhood cats freely roam through the house to keep them safe from coyotes. In an instant, I was sold. Meadow passed the year before, and her home had stood empty and quiet on that street corner until I came along and bought it for myself. Finding this home was fate. I know no other buyer would cherish the life and livelihood of the previous owner how I do.

There's a hole in my kitchen wall from a roguechampagne cork popped off a bottle of Dom Perignon by Jerry Garcia in 1967. It's now surrounded by a gold-plated frame—the first piece of decoration I put up the day I closed on the mortgage. There was no way in hell I was covering that piece of history up. I've kept other pieces of my home's former owner around as well. Meadow's grevilleas bloom with beautiful honey and coral-colored flowers along the front steps every fall, and a vintage aluminum sign covered in florals and peace paraphernalia with the phrase 'Stay trippy' still hangs on the front door.

I like to think that I'm keeping Meadow's traditions and spirit alive by standing in her footsteps as the weird, loud woman that judgy neighbors whisper about in hushed tones at barbecues and book clubs. I might not be throwing wild parties or kidnapping neighborhood pets, but my inherent clamorous personality certainly puts me amongst Meadow's ranks.

"Pancakes, I'm home!" I call out as I stumble into my kitchen, tripping on the pile of discarded sneakers by the door. I keep promising myself that I'm going to clean the shoes up, but I never do. It’s far too convenient to have so many options at my disposal when I’m running out the door each day.

I slip off my black and yellow Jordans and add them to the pile, then I head to the living room where my beloved Pancakes lazes happily on a 3D printed lily pad in his tank.

Pancakes is a beautiful white and butter yellowHalf-moon Betta fish I fell in love with on sight a few months ago. I never fancied myself a pet person, and Pancakes’ residence in my living room started as a joke. I'd been complaining to my friends that everyone—even Dottie and Stephen's fucking dog—had gone for a flight on James and Amir's private jet and I hadn't. A valid complaint if you ask me, but I guess I was getting on everyone’s nerves because James promised to buy me a fish to shut me up.

I don't know why James thought a fish of all things would placate me. I was fully ready to demand a trip to Chanel instead, but he was right. From the moment we rolled up to the pet store, and I saw Pancakes swimming laps in his little plastic cup, I knew he was my son. On top of the adoption fee, I made James buy Pancakes top of the line everything, from his ten-gallon tank to the natural driftwood furniture to the top of the line river substrate that lines the bottom of his tank. My boy deserves nothing but the best.

I still haven't taken a ride on the jet, but at least my fish son is living in the lap of luxury.

Pancakes takes notice when I pop the lip on the top of his tank and drop in two pellets for his lunch. His home looks nice and clear since I did a small water change before work this morning. Tomorrow morning after my massage, when I do my full Sunday reset, I'll deep clean his tank with a full water change, algae sweep and rinsing off his toys and furniture. Afterwards, Pancakes will get a treat of brine shrimp while Ieat Pad Thai and do a face mask on the couch, and the two of us will watch something from my collection of early 2000s Disney Channel original movies. It’s feeling like aThe Thirteenth Yearkind of week.

After making sure Pancakes eats all his pellets, I grab a blanket and snuggle onto my couch for my post-brunch nap. I turn on ESPN and see that my older brother, Dean, the quarterback for the Knoxville Crushers NFL team, is being interviewed about the upcoming draft. I close my eyes and settle in. Listening to my brother talk football is the perfect sound to bore me to sleep. When I wake up a few hours later, the sun has begun to set, and there's an unread email waiting for me on my phone.

From:Jonathan Graham

To:Kira McKenna

Subject:Monday Meeting

I’d like to see you in my office Monday morning before your first shoot of the day.

7 a.m. will be good.

We have some important things to discuss.

Jonathan

Founder & CEO, Spin Sync Inc.

My stomach coils into a knot at the brusque tone of his message, but that’s just Jonathan. Since we met in LA all those years ago, I’ve never known Jonathan Graham to mince words. Sure, he’ll lie and hide things, but he does so with conviction. And while we’ve had our differences in the past about Spin Sync–the ‘Founder’ in his email signature still annoys the shit out of me–I have a feeling I know what he wants to discuss on Monday.

Jonathan is ready to move on, and if he’s ready to sell Spin Sync, I am ready to buy. The company I envisioned as a young woman, the one I’ve poured my heart and soul into over the years, is finally going to be mine.

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