It all begins with a noise from upstairs. I get eminently annoyed and feel hysterical. So, I blame the neighbor—I think she’s a CIA officer manipulating my brain and redirecting my neurons to become a wolf-man. Her name is Robinson. No, not the one from The Graduate , where she seduces the new young blood. I feel abused by the noise and my imagination of being a victim. Ironically, I don’t even know her. So, I felt there should be a way to solve the problem. But I am fine; my spirit is good. It’s just the godly work I need to fulfill. The Kabbalah says life is a movie and we are playing our part. I should change my attention and redirect it to something positive. So, I decided to take a walk and have something sweet to boost my mood… there, my imagination extended through people-watching… 3 PM at Urth Café, Beverly Hills After ordering a hazelnut dark chocolate cake and an oat latte, I find a seat with the best view for people-watching. What about Urth Café? I think it’s still a spy café. There are spies from different countries who enjoy the same cake and also want it. It’s a war zone for attention. At a 90-degree angle, a white man in a grey T-shirt in his 40s is seemingly enjoying a suntan, but the sweat spot at the bottom of his T-shirt indicates his suffering from the excessive heat. On the T-shirt, Bitcoin symbols are decorated under the bottom. He’s the type of person who wakes up at 6 AM every morning, making sure that he does not miss the most updated market index. Of course, you should also be aware that if you ever tend to marry someone whose job is investing in Bitcoin, all the transactions feel like money laundering—buying a car using Bitcoins, and your car delivers in the middle of the night from nowhere, suddenly landing in your backyard. “Hello, is anyone sitting here? If not, may I take the chair?” An old lady with a candid smile pulls me back to reality. “Oh yeah, please. Do you need help? I can help…!” She nodded with a smile without saying anything. But her elegance remained in the air, while her companion just situated and turned back towards me. Identifying Jews and Cherished Memories There’s something unique about Jewish culture—they have a profound love for humor and storytelling. I remember my ex-roommate from rehab, who was Jewish and had an incredible knack for jokes. He could light up any room with his wit and always knew how to turn a tough situation into a moment of laughter. The last time I saw him, he had become a rabbi, continuing his passion for bringing joy and wisdom to others. One time, I shared a joke that fell flat at work. It was about a character flaw—a "bottom stud"—something that had been celebrated in a movie that won an Oscar. Instead of the laughter I expected, I got fired. This lesson taught me that not all jokes will eventually make their way to the election, some jokes might just  become rancid. This memory reminds me of happier times when laughter was a source of connection and healing. It makes me wonder, if you marry someone from a culture that values humor deeply, like the Jewish community, would you engage in daily reflections on each other's strengths and flaws? It could be a fun way to understand each other better without feeling judged. Imagine saying, "Oh honey, you too?" in a moment of shared laughter and mutual growth. It’s a lovely thought. Continuing the Narrative I don’t know if I will get a job in LA film school, where I can see how I can contribute my talent and make the visuals surpass USC or AFI. Well, that’s simply because I am jealous that I can’t get into any of those top big places. So, I am going small. Small capital, small cup of coffee, small steps, small dream, small bite. As I talk about it, my anxiety kicks in right away... Should I send a double message to make sure they see me? Hear me? Or maybe I should call? I need a surprise! Not like waking up in the morning with some leftover anxieties that I could neither digest through poop nor absorb into the body as nutrients. So, it’s blocked in the throat, like being choked with a fat chocolate donut positioned in the wrong place, with only a small hole to go through some not-so-fresh air. Just at that moment, subconsciously, I work towards the computer, aimlessly clicking the mouse and typing the password. Voila! Suddenly, you see that big email title from your dream job saying you are hired! Then you couldn’t really say “whoa” to celebrate. You push hard and make a tiny, weak voice say, “Oh yeah.” Then that donut melts about 10% and slides under, flipping. That part of the melted chocolate kisses the membrane of your throat, making you want to cough! Soon, the excitement dissipates and is substituted by pain! If not handled carefully, it will become a hate crime! Luckily, there is something called meditation. You must feel grateful for everything! Thanks for the sunshine, thanks for the care, thanks for the noise, thanks for the coffee... But you’re not going to be a writer if you are too happy, because the most book you will write is a self-help guide with A-Z steps, and everything seems so damn perfect! Imagining Spiritual Uplift in Cinema Imagine in the cinema, all the movies are about spiritual uplift.8 AM: “The best is yet to come”10:30 AM: “The way we survive”1 PM: “I am so loved.”3:40 PM: “Just don’t die.”5 PM: “Divorce is not the end of life, period.”7 PM: “He cheated on me, but I am not a victim.”8 PM: “There is a solution.”9 PM: “Let’s pray and dance.” No, that’s not the solution, because otherwise, who’s going to be the bad person to make good people feel intrinsically good about themselves? I don’t think we are born to be bad, or maybe you can say he or she got a bad gene. Carl Jung said what makes a human is that we embrace both light and dark within us. If you have too much control of yourself and follow moral guidance, you will become Karen. Or vice versa, you become Karen’s bestie, Megan. Karen has a face that shows she knows the universe’s rules. This world divides into good and bad. Everything is bad, so she will go to attack and blame. You will probably meet at least one Karen in life. Megan is the opposite. You will see her on TV or in films, or not until you wake up in the middle of the night to see 10 police cars raiding the place and knowing your neighbor is a murderer! The Café Encounter The thing about a café is you can find a Karen. They have a major issue: their last sexual activity was a decade ago, and of course, it was a bad one. I forgot to say that I feel I am a Karen. It’s okay, though. How can I identify a Karen? We have hurt and lost control, so we will take any tiny moment if we might be allowed. “Madame, s’il vous plaît, take control of me, make me one of your only puppies. Madame, madame désolé, I am available tonight.” Maybe that’s why if you see a newly loved couple kissing as if it’s the end of the world, you will get extremely offended and report them! “How dare you! I miss that French kiss, tongue to tongue!” No, never! Kissing hours in public among lovers, you will immediately curse them! But no one sees Karen as I do—love is forever Hollywood flare. Drama rotten from a long time ago, in crucial reality, whether it’s a husband cheating on a prettier girl, or a boyfriend not texting his last message and disappearing out of nowhere. Karen wants love, moisture, and a listener who can sit for hours listening to the same old story again and again. The core is the same: “Why!?!?!” Then, there is Megan, who is super confident, beautiful, eats a healthy diet from Erewhon, and drives a Porsche car that one of her boyfriends spoiled her with. She has no shame in admitting that life should be celebrated every day, so her libido should never be suppressed. The good thing is she gets quite forgiving to others. Well, not that 15k champagne she wasted at the birthday party, no shame to brag about her new diamond ring her other lover endorsed to her. No one sees Megan as I see them because I am a Megan too, except for the forgiveness. The Final Encounter So, in the same café, Karen and Megan decide to meet one more last time before their friendship goes bananas. Here come Karen and Meghan, just seated at the booth. Karen: “Oh, I hate your fake blond wig.” Meghan: “And I hate your fake pearl necklace!” Just when Karen and Meghan continue their criticism of each other, disliking their unauthentic friendship, my phone begins to ring. It is from the physical recovery center. “Hi, Mr. Anqi, do you want to make the appointment for next week?” “Hi Bella, yeah, sure same time at 10:30, Tuesday and Thursday.” “Sure, Bella! Who is available?” “Meghan will be at your service,” Bella said. Then the phone hangs up. I left Urth Café after the phone call, wondering how I would deal with the noise from upstairs when I got back home. Suddenly, a big bold title knocked down my head: “Am I a Karen to her, or Meghan.” The End © All copyrights reserved by Anqi Lin