ABOUT 

@celestepalace

WORK

youtube.com/celestebandy

@celestepalace

Writing

GET IT BACK

This is the neighborhood I lived in in middle school. Sometimes I like to walk here, I don’t really know why, I guess to calm down.

I thought that I was finally getting over being shy. I started making friends just before I graduated, and I liked being with people. It felt almost easy. I felt cool and I wore what I wanted and I made myself say things instead of just sitting in the background. People actually listened to me, and I met their eyes. Everyone is always waiting for me to come out of my shell, my family members and friends, and I felt I finally had.

I graduated a week ago, and I felt it again. Why am I so anxious about everything? When I went up on stage I felt happy, and it was easy to grab the diploma, there was no weird handshake thing, I knew to shake with my right hand. I liked hearing people cheer for me, I wasn’t ashamed of it.
Afterwords my family came over and I enjoyed just talking for hours. I didn’t feel so uncomfortable. I drove to work without using google maps and my boyfriends house. Driving was just driving. I stayed at his house until 10 at night, I didn’t worry about a specific time I needed to get up. I got ready for work an hour before work instead of three hours before and showing up an hour early.

I went to a graduation party I never thought I would be invited to. He’s a really nice guy with a good heart, and there were about 100 people there and I got along with everyone, and everyone thought I was funny. I didn’t feel judged, I felt heard. I talked to strangers and I listened to the guy’s family get tear eyed over their son graduating. It was super fun. He was a really popular guy, everyone liked him and knew him, and I was one of those people. Not just someone who didn’t speak except to read aloud in class, with a shaky voice. Not insecure for no reason. I talked to more people I felt were the same as me.

It’s weird how it can all fade when you’re in another situation. It was the Sunday after graduation, and there was another graduation party I was going to. It was my best friends, Beth. I knew all of Beth's family, and I went to her parties before. It was never awful, and I was different then, now I was more confident. I knew how Beth’s parties were. These were people I was close to and who knew me since 5th grade. I loved Beth and I was really excited to celebrate with her.
I got in the car and made sure my headlights were on because it was raining. My stomach sank a little because it was all backroads I had to go through, unfamiliar and tight fit, dirt roads for some. I told myself that it would be easier though because there would be hardly any cars. And it was Sunday. It only took 15 minutes to get there and I could just park in front of the house. It would be pretty, all the country. Relaxing with the rain and the pretty country. It would be a time to calm down a little before the party. I had everything I needed, my license and a bathing suit. I even packed tampons for just in case. Plus this one girl I usually hung out with at Beth’s parties would be there because they are really good friends, and Beth liked to invite a lot of people so if I did feel weird for some reason, she would be there.
I parked, getting there in fifteen minutes. I was ten minutes early. Beth ran out, looking all happy at me being there. She made sure I got the day off work to be there because I was her best friend, I needed to be at her party. I hugged her and told her she looked beautiful. She was wearing this light grey tee shirt dress and she had lost a lot of weight and her acne. She looked curvy, healthy, and the most beautiful, radiant she had ever been. I was so happy and proud of her. School had been rougher for Beth than for me. She hated it so much, but she got through it, through her depression and false friends and issues with family. I was, am so so proud of her.
She was gone, talking to someone else. All her other friends, one of whom I had met once, were there. They all waved at me. They wore cute thrifted clothes and high waisted shorts. They were all tall and confident looking. Some of them liked the same stuff I liked, judging on their instagrams, artsy stuff. I Would strike up conversation with them about indie music and film. Be excited to make new friends who are like you, I told myself.
I stood by the couch where some of the girls were talking. This one girl told me I could sit down, I didn’t have to be weird. My stomach sank, I was just standing is it weird to stand? Fuck. I sat down and it was a really tight fit, now my thighs were touching hers. She hardly looked at me, but made this weird, uncomfortable smile. I tried to scoot over and give her more room but then she made this weird snort noise. I wanna leave, I wanna go home, I’m not wanted here. Oh my fucking god shut up Celeste, nothing is going wrong you’re just not speaking so it’s awkward.
I didn’t know how old she was so I asked her if she had graduated this year. She said yes, I’m not that dumb. I was going to tell her I didn’t mean it like that but I couldn’t move and her friend was sitting next to her again. I just looked off, feeling my eyes glaze over. I went to get some food. I would feel better after I ate a little food. Beth kept sitting off somewhere else and talking to someone else, but I was fine. This is Beth’s party, I needed to remember this was Beth’s day. I get so selfish.
After every conversation I tried to start, everyone looked so uncomfortable, and no one asked me anything. Everyone knew everyone else, I was the odd one out. I was just sitting there and hovering over them, and I felt bad for them. I could feel them wondering when I was going to leave. I wasn’t interesting, I was just quiet, and why should they talk to me? It’s Beth’s party.
They tried to be nice to me, the fucking dramatic freak. We went out to the porch to smoke some weed. I had smoked before and I was excited about it, this would help me. But then when they went to pass it I got way to into my head and said no. I couldn’t inhale properly and I would look like an idiot, the rest of them knew what to do. They were all stoners and they were all doing smoking tricks. We were sitting in these comfy old chairs, but I felt like I was sinking in. I couldn’t move. I’d be more of the shy girl who couldn’t seem to get the words out. I explained the whole inhale thing and they all laughed, you just breathe it in they told me, it’s just like inhaling, like breathing, they told me, how do you inhale properly? Rhetorical question. Beth said you don’t have to do it, and took a big hit.
Beth always used to speak for me when we really really best friends. She was my savior, but she also held me back. How could she know what I was thinking? I just looked like someone who needed saving.
Later we all wanted to swim. I was excited to get in the pool, it was 80 in there so not really that cold, and the water usually seemed to calm me. I went to go change in the bathroom while they all changed in the same room together. Now they all knew I was too insecure and shy to change in the same room with them, which was stupid because I was the skinniest one there and now they probably thought I was stuck up too. Why was I worrying so much and being so stupid? There are people out there who have things way worse than me and I am obsessing over not taking a hit on the blunt and being the odd one out? What the fuck?! I’m blonde, skinny, why the fuck am I anxious!?
I started to cry as I got into my bathing suit, then quickly told myself to shut the fuck up and go have fun. Next time they smoke I’ll have a hit.It’s gonna be okay. I thought that one girl would be here but there was only a group of five of us all together, all close enough to watch each other’s movements. Beth had never had a really small party like this before, but why would I want a big party with more people I didn’t know? I just told myself to get out of my head, to pretend.
I hadn’t swam since last year and my bathing suit shorts were super tight, barely fitting. I wore dumb shorts because I didn’t like to shave my pubes too much, and I didn’t want to gross anyone out, but now I looked even dumber.
When I swam I was all in. I reverted back to that shy girl in fifth grade who followed around Beth, the popular girl who got along with everyone. I remember once when me and Beth were fighting this one girl asked her why she was ever even friends with me, she replied I really don’t know, why are we friends? I really don’t know.
I was just standing in the pool, watching everyone. They were all complaining about their rolls, I thought they looked beautiful, but I knew better than to say so, me being the skinny bitch. It’s better for me to not speak. At one point they talked about this one girls brother whom I used to date. I didn’t say anything.
When they decided to get out of the pool and go smoke more, I went to walk up the steps and I think I accidentally splashed in the girls face. They laughed at me.
I waited for everyone else with the one girl who I accidentally called dumb. She was picking weed. I knew what it was but she explained it to me like I was a sweet child. She told me about how sticky weed is. She was trying to be nice, to talk to me about something.
When they brought out the blunt again, I went to take a hit but Beth said I didn’t want any, to just pass it along. I didn’t make a scene. I looked at the trees, I tired to lose myself in them. I was wet and half naked. My feet were caked in dirt. I didn’t have a comfy chair again, this one was hard, steel. It was higher up than everyone else too so I was watching them from above, like they were a television show.
Then some boys showed up, very late to the party I guess. They all grinned like sharks, they had more weed. The boy went to pass it to me and Beth said no for me again. He kept trying to pass it, Beth kept saying no because I was mute. One boy was looking at me, he said damn when he saw me, but I decided I was reading it wrong, I wasn’t the one here.
They also brought vodka. This one girl went to set it back on the table but it was far away so I sat down for her. They all erupted in laughter. I thought I was being nice. Beth called me a good girl and explained they were offering it to me. Suddenly they all had their fingers on their noses, I didn’t put mine on, I needed a way out, I would go get whatever. Beth kept telling me to put my finger on my nose, like I was such an idiot for not understanding, like I couldn’t hear her she kept repeating it, but I shook my head until they all had fingers on their nose, and I could leave to serve them. So I was getting waters out of the cooler. One girl helped me, they were nice, it was the girl I splashed chlorine in the face of.
They called me a hero as I handed out the waters. I told Beth I was going to use the bathroom, I tried to look normal even though I felt like a glass doll. I cried and cried in the bathroom. I locked and unlocked the bathroom door about five times, making sure it was locked as I undressed. I must’ve been in there for ten minutes, crying and changing when I heard Beth ask someone outside if I was in the bathroom.
I came out, she asked me if I was going now. That meant I should go, so I did. I gave her a hug. Beth looked slightly concerned, but mostly high. I said I would see her later, she said soon, soon, with a hopeful look. Beth is an angel. I hoped they could really party now, relax without me there. They wouldn’t talk bad about me, they would call me cute or sweetheart and know with each other that meant something else, without having to say it, without insulting Beth’s best friend.
Her grandma helped me back out the car because she knew I got anxious. She sent me home with a bunch of cupcakes. She could probably see I had been crying. It was a regular thing for a privileged girl like me to do.
Shaking I pulled out, I heard that high kid who was looking at me before stand up to watch me go. I put my headlights on because it was raining. Then I burst into tears.
The drive took extra long because I was so upset, I couldn’t focus and kept missing turns.
I got home and I felt so scared, like such a little girl. I felt like all that built up confidence over this year, going to college and making films and talking to people I wanted to talk to all meant nothing now. I tried to rationalize it, it was because I just didn’t like them, it was because I felt judged but all those reasons were not true. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
My boyfriend came over and held me as I cried like a baby. He kept trying to rationalize it too, I just agreed with one of his reasons to make him feel better about it. But I don’t know why I’m so scared. I don’t know how the fuck I am going to make it.

But I’ve got to get it back, I’m going to get it back.

THE LAUGH TRACK

All I watched when I was little was full house with my grandma. My mom thought it was dumb, we thought it was funny and I loved the music they would play when they were about to have their big understanding talk. When I went to bed I dreamed I was in that family, that we had the big understanding talk and we would get into silly things and there was a simple laugh track, an audience who cared and loved you.
She asked me if I was dealing with hormones. If that was why I was so quiet and I was hiding and not talking, heavy breathing only speaking in awkward half answers, stammers, quiet, quiet, quiet, on the verge of tears my voice seemed. I said yes, and then took my medication.
She told me she knows what anxiety is. Her friend has it, it’s worse than me. She also has it, so she knows what it is. She had a panic attack the other day.
He asked me what anxiety was. He understood it was just being nervous. I wanna get into a car accident. My neighbors have a pitbull. He growls at me when I walk by, but he doesn’t ever come near me even though he has no leash. He’s confident he doesn’t have to, he has droopy eyes. I heard my neighbor yelling at someone else by the pitbull that this wasn’t their house, that they needed to go the fuck home right now. Then I heard a motorcycle drive off. Then I saw him petting the pitbull, and the pitbull looked like he had seen this shit everyday, and it was the best thing, the prime of his life. Sometimes I wish I was the pitbull. People wouldn’t ask me questions. The laugh track would play when I bark.
Do you ever wish you were an animal. A household pet.

ANGELA

Angela smokes hand rolled cigarettes. She takes a break for them every hour. She goes out to do it with this co-worker who has worked there for about thirty years. They get benefits here. When she comes back and says sweetie it’s in a scratchy voice, and she smells of it. Her lighter is pink. She used to live in New York, but now it’s too crazy for her. She loved the city when she was young. She doesn’t like Trump but she doesn’t like Hillary either. All her sons are in their early 20s and live in cities like San Francisco. She misses her grandchildren. She says that god intended to make her a woman so she could use her big mouth and not get knocked out for it. Her co- worker and her were talking one day about another co-worker that went the wrong way. But anyways whoever the partner was, he/she was keeping him in check, he seemed happier and healthier. Then they went on their break again to talk about more gossip on a bench where I couldn’t hear. Everyone believes me to be innocent there.
I miss him. I feel like he’s so far away now. And now his family are looking for homes farther away. He says he’s not going but he helped them look. And I haven’t kissed him in years, I haven’t tasted him. When he talks I see flashes of his tongue. I hate feeling like best friends all the time, I miss being a lover. I think of his hands and rainbow colored condoms. He thinks I don’t think about him as often as he thinks of me. I feel like I’m dying.
My best friend’s family is so warm. I forget but I saw her last week. Her family shares weed with each other and they talk every day. They call each other on the way to a friends or a grocery store but none of it seems overbearing. We sat on her porch and smoked. I thought about how my mom said that weed is fine except it makes you do nothing and you blow all your money on it. You can’t take care of a family when you’re high. My best friend is worried about the same stuff I am. She looks beautiful, I hope she follows through. She kept repeating, I’m so scared, I’m so scared. Back in fifth grade I thought no one would ever love me at this time and I thought me and Lindsey would live together. Now I’ve left her. But I feel so much love from her, more than I could imagine in a best friend. She’s talking to this new guy who looks like Post Malone and I hope it works out, I really do. Have you ever met someone who deserves everything in the world?
My mom is watching shark week by herself. I said I wanted to talk to a consular about college and she started to get upset. I can’t even talk to her about it. I keep thinking about how the fuck this is all going to work out. There’s no way. She told me I was going to the doctor’s to speak about my anxiety. The doctor gave a basic check up and didn’t say a word about it. Who loves you.
When I was driving home from my best friend’s house it was dark out and there was this huge white cross glowing. I felt him, I knew he was watching me. I wish I could give it my all I said to him. He couldn't answer. Leave a message.
Angelea’s sister was chubby as a kid. They called her rolly polly and they still do even though she turned out to be skinny. She knows they’re only joking, she’s a tough kid.
The thirteen year old cousin smokes weed funny. And it’s lightning outside. I can’t keep track of what I’m saying when I’m high and it’s never felt so good to stop in the middle of a sentence and forget all about it. I lose feeling so quickly, I need another hit. That night my mom’s face was so worn, so much older, and the light from the tv was reflecting off it. She was gonna cry, I know she did when she went to her room. I told her to be strong for me, she says she was but she’s aloud to be stressed out too. That’s my mom’s catch line ‘I’m aloud to be stressed out too’. She feels like she’s the glue of the household so who can blame her. She needs a mantra. What the fuck is mine? Keep miserable and keep making shit no one knows about? Maybe that’s why I’m so fucking depressed. I don’t bother with anything positive. I only want what’s too far out of my reach. Weed is still illegal and there’s no way I’m getting a medical marijuana license.
When I went to eat with Lindsey and her little brother had to tag along, I still wasn’t fucking high. I thought I smoked enough but now I want more, I want it to rain and I want everything to come to an end. While her little brother was being picky and my best friend helped him arrange the food on his plate, I thought about the ceiling crashing down on us. She always tries to make me feel comfortable when I smoke, she never passes the blunt to me, afraid she might pass it too many times than I’m comfortable with. She asks if I’m okay after taking a big hit, and it feels like fifth grade again. She tells her little siblings that she’s smoking cigars, not weed. Her little brother came out while we were smoking and said yuck cigars! He ran away. I felt an understanding.

Contact 

Instagram: @celestepalace

Email:celestebandy243@gmail.comcelestebandy243@gmail.com celestebandy243@gmail.com

Phone number:352-801-8313