Monday, August 23, 2010

.The Infinite Sadness.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World came out this month, and I've been positively obsessed. As a two-month thing, I saw it with my partner, and we were both pretty impressed. Am I rhyming? Anyway, as far as I am concerned, Bryan Lee O'Malley is a genius, and so is Edgar Wright.

That's partly where the title of this blog comes from, even though O'Malley very obviously borrowed the sub-header from the best Smashing Pumpkins album of life. The entire Scott Pilgrim series is so reflective of life and love.

Today, I spent a very frustrating 30 minutes or so trying to answer my own security questions to retrieve my password on my York U account. I have no idea why my password wasn't working in the first place (I have theories entirely separate from this anecdote), but one thing I DO know is that my account is pretty damned secure, since I had to like, do RECON in order to figure out my own questions.

Anyway, I feel comfortable in telling you about one of the questions since I know there is no possible way you will be able to answer the other two (HA!). After finally breaking my way through the first answer like Harry Potter with that damn devil's snare in The Philosopher's Stone, I got to my very own "Flying Keys" question that read: "What was the first and last name of your very first boyfriend/girlfriend?"

I snickered to myself, as if the answer was obvious. I typed in "David Tucker", the name of a boy I was "on and off" with in the fifth grade. Last I heard, he served some time in jail. How charming.

Nay, that was not the answer. I typed in a bunch of other names, even though I knew for a fact these people were not my first boyfriends ever. I thought, considering the answer to the first question, that I must have been on crack the day I configured my security settings; at this point, any name was possible.

Finally, it hit me. The face of a young boy popped into my head and I immediately thought "Darren".

Darren was a guy I knew in the sixth grade, the year I moved to a small town in Eastern Ontario. I can remember his voice, his smile, his hair and even the way he dressed, as though it was just yesterday that I was 11-year old Tasha. I remember he also had a man-eating twin sister who broke the hearts of all sorts of sixth-grade boys back in the day. Disclaimer: I'm sure she's not that way now. ;)

I do not recall how we started "dating"- back in those days, relationships were always a schoolyard matter of asking "will you go out with me?", only to carry out a fruitless, two-week relationship where all you do is tell people to tell your boyfriend or girlfriend that you "love" them. I just remember being quite taken aback by his sweetness. One time he brought me candy; another time, a single, red carnation flower. My dad picked me up that day, and made fun of me for having an "admirer".

Knowing for a fact this was the answer to the second security question, I could not for the life of me remember Darren's last name. It finally occurred to me that Marko, one of my oldest besties from public school, would know his last name. After all, he was one of his sister's little flings.

He texted me back, reminding me that their last name was "Wallace". Darren Wallace. How could I forget?

As we continued our happy, little and foolish so-called "romance", the news came about that Darren Wallace was moving away. At the time, I knew I would miss him, but it didn't really occur to me how big a deal it would be. I had been moved around and separated from my most favourite people so often in my young life that I just figured eventually I'd adapt; I never thought about the moment right after he was gone that would suck so much.

Our first real and pretty much final date was a movie. We went to see Tarzan, a perfectly wholesome Disney film. My mom drove us there and back...I'm pretty sure she felt sorry for me.

When he left, or rather when I had knowledge of the fact that he had left, I cried and cried. It sounds so melodramatic as I write about it now, but it kind of felt like the end of the world.

I think I made his name the answer to the "first boyfriend" question because, even though he was just a high-pitched sixth-grader back then, he was the first person to ever make me feel special in that capacity. As the first boy to go out of his way to do anything for me, it was inherently the first time I ever felt like I had what was called a "boyfriend". I also think it is both Disney's AND Darren Wallace's fault that I have the expectations that I do for relationships eleven years after the fact. Luckily, I have someone that seems to suit said expectations quite well so far, so I no longer have a reason to cry like a baby when I hear Phil Collins' "You'll Be in My Heart".

I did see him once when I was in highschool in Chapters. He was with a tall blond, typically, but still as sweet as ever. When I thought he was out of earshot I started rambling about how nice of a boyfriend he was in the sixth grade. It was one of those "annnd he's right behind me, isn't he?" moments. EMBARASSMENT, LOLZ.

Such is a tale of a young idiot girl's love and loss. Both luckily and unfortunately, it wasn't the last.

-Tasha.

xoxo

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Tashybell.

If there was any one, ridiculous word I could use to describe myself to other people, the word would be "fairy". And no, it's not just because I am short in stature with a tinkly voice and a rainbows-and-cupcakes disposition, nor is it only because I am a gay man trapped in a woman's body.

In the book "Peter Pan" (one of my all-time favourite books EVAR on the PLANET), J.M. Barrie said: "Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time. They are, however, allowed to change, only it must be a complete change."

Tinkerbell is always experiencing emotional extremes- sometimes she's mellow and content, other times she's jealous and bitchy and convincing people to try and kill Wendy.

I myself feel like I am only capable of hosting one feeling at a time. Mainly because, at the best of times, a happy feeling will surround me and wrap me up in a warm blanket of muffin-y loveliness. At the worst, negative feelings will consume me until all that's left is a sad little nymph that no one wants to be around, all shreds of hope so far from reach.

Why is it so difficult to find a balance between the two?

Change is possible...but it has to be for real.

*shrugs*

-T

xoxo