Thursday, February 26, 2009

No Names Were Included For a Reason.

So my piece on my boss went over terribly. This is my replacement piece. I am exhausted so I don't feel like writing a whitty introduction or closing so without any filler bulshit:

         I Do Not Own Cats.

It seems as though everyone has someone in life. Teachers have their classes, couples have their partners, and my mother (previous to finding Gerry) has our dog.  My friends have very close best friends or boyfriends, which leaves me as the chronically single friend, daughter, and finally wing-woman.


It's not that I haven't had boyfriends before. I have had three serious boyfriends before in fact. The toughest part for me is that I like being alone. Unfortunately, that is just an outsider's opinion. If there was someone who I found and liked spending time with often, I would not have this stereotype tattooed on my forehead for the world to read.


This particular memoir is about one boy who, in just a short time of friendship, has already made me want to be a better person.


February 8 -10, 2009 were 3 nights that I will never forget. It started how most things start in my life, my obsession with Kevin Smith. He is my idol and my inspiration so when I heard that he was coming to Toronto for a question and answer period I scrambled to get tickets. Unfortunately, both nights were sold out within the first hour of sales. Then something fantastic happened, the Bloor Street Cinema announced that they would be holding a "Kevin Smith Fest" with half hour Q+A's from the genius him self after ever one of his films screened. I jumped at the opportunity and bought a pass for all three nights, and tickets for "Clerks" for my mother, Gerry, and my best friend Samantha. I got to the theater ridiculously early on the eighth to ensure a perfect seat of unadulterated worship to my idol. Then phone calls started coming in. Samantha had too much work, Gerry and Mum were running late.


There I was, all alone and with two and a half more hours to wait in the brisk February weather. Instead of being my usual cold, happy to be alone self, I decided to turn around and make some light conversation with what I thought was a couple behind me. We started talking and it became immediately apparent that they were just friends.  We talked for the entire remainder of the wait in line before the girl asked if I was there alone for the show. The boy suggested that I sit with them for the second show and the rest of the festival. I said yes thinking that I would never talk to either of them again and it was just a friendly conversation with two people.


I was wrong. My negativity and automatic assumption that no one wants to know me or spend a moment more than they need too was proved wrong. They saved me a seat for the next five films. We talked, laughed, and shared moments together. Things went so well becoming friends with the girl and having my cold  heart slowly melt  due to the boy, that I invited the two over to my apartment, my private space, for the Oscars.


            Oscar night rolled around and proving my negative outlook on people wrong once again, they both showed up. Of course I was excited to see the girl again, we were friends and I had not seen her in over a week. The boy was a whole different story. I was excited, anxious, nervous, worried about what he would think, if he would like me back and all the usual thoughts that someone with a crush would conjure up.


             The night went better than I could ever imagine. I made a dinner of a roasted chicken and potatoes with a cheese soufflé. (Because the girl is a vegetarian.) I undercooked the chicken by 5 minutes, nervously taking it out without having stuck the thermometer in the right spot. The soufflé fell. In my eyes, it was a terrible dinner. The boy cleaned his plate and could not stop praising my cooking, which made me blush a terrible shade of scarlet. He offered to help clean. He came to get me whenever an award I was interested in was being presented. He was a perfect gentleman. And, no matter how often the seating plan seemed to change on my small couch, he would always sit next to me.

            The night was over and we said our goodbyes, finally exchanging numbers to text and we texted well into the early hours of the following day. I have never met someone so honest, kind, and loveable who I could realistically see my self with. It may not be "true love". It may never go past a friendship. For the first time in a long time though, I have found someone. It is too early to tell anything except that he makes me happy. He may be my "someone".


            That is why the eighth of February through the tenth of February and every day since have been so great. Because of just one person. This may be the end of my stereotypical, chronically single, negative life and the start of something really lovely. 

I am going to go attempt to fall asleep to Penn and Teller Bulshit now. (Can't completely give up my negative ways just yet. cynicism=life)

No comments:

Post a Comment