Friday, December 03, 2010

Moving out on my own and embarrassing myself: Being 19

All my other stories about my life are here.

When I turned 19, I decided I was going to move out.  First, I left to work on the bee farm, and from there moved to Saskatoon for university.  It was all part of my grand plan to be independent.

I rented a tiny bachelor suite in a building that smelled like cat pee.  It was within walking distance from the University and moments from two of my good friends.  The window was broken, the heat was always on, the door didn't lock correctly, and it was on the same block as a half-way house.  I loved it.

While it wasn't the place to be all the time, my small home became a regular hangout for a few friends -- like the one who came to stay for a week and never moved out -- and we were all comfortable just hanging out watching my 2 TV channels and listening to my neighbours speak loudly in Chinese.

One afternoon, my roommate, myself and a good friend (who is a male) were hanging out.  I got a phone call from A BOY! who I was crazy about.  He was coming over to my place to hang out with us until it was time to go out with our whole group of friends.  I tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing.  I calmly got off the phone, announced that A BOY! was coming over and I got up off the couch where I had been sitting.

In my mind, I quietly tidied the room, put laundry away, and relaxed in quiet anticipation of his presence.

I forgot that I'm as subtle as a punch to the junk.

What actually happened is this: I leapt off the couch and dashed around the room gathering things into a laundry hamper.  I started hiding things I thought would be embarrassing and then I went and changed my clothes.  In my mind, it was a subtly sexy outfit that would play off my best features and make me more desirable.

Remember that thing about subtly?

I changed into a coloured bra (likely teal as it was my favourite) and a white dress shirt.  I tucked this ensemble into my tight cowboy jeans (I was attempting to be a cowgirl those days) and put on my leather belt with shiny buckle.  I then redid my make-up, put on the brightest red lipstick I owned, and redid my hair.

I finally settled back on the couch looking like an early 20s version of Tammy Faye Baker.

It wasn't until that moment that I noticed my male friend staring at me as though I had lost my mind and had my head spin around in circles while spitting pea soup.  He hadn't known anything about my particular obsession and had been quite surprised.

Years later (14 to be exact) my friend is still telling the story about the time he watched me lose my mind over A BOY!

Thank God, I grew up.

1 comment:

  1. "I forgot that I'm as subtle as a punch to the junk." Awesome.


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