i did it

Well here it is...the first of many blog posts. I've been wanting to do this for a while, but kept getting stage fright every time I sat down to write. After all, every other blog I read out there is so captivating and entertaining, how could I possibly write a witty blog that would somehow feed my readers. How can I make my adventures sound thrilling and exciting so much that they'll come back to read more? No. I can't possibly do that. So I didn't. And now, I'm nearly 3 months into my adventure in California, and I haven't written one story about my journey so far. Not the road trip, where my mom and I were attacked by burrows and drove through the Rockies in the middle of the night because of poor planning. Not the week my sister came for a visit, where we ate everything anything our hearts desired for a week straight (i.e. two trips to In-N-Out burger, two three trips to Yogurtland...well, you get the idea). Not the time that I made friends with perfect strangers at a wine tasting and while standing in line at a Starbucks down the street. Not the time I did what I thought would be one of the scariest things I would ever experience in my entire life. Taking myself to the movies. Who does that? I mean, who am I going to look over at and share gut-splitting laughs with, or who's hand am I going to hold when it's a really happy or sad scene and the tears are welling up while I try not to let them stream down my face? The very idea of all this completely frightened me, and as a result I have been forced to wait to see movies I am dying to see until they come out in redbox. Last Saturday on my way back from Vik's Chaat Corner in Berkeley, CA (delicious indian food btw) I decided I would work up the courage before I went home and take myself to the movies. I fought myself the entire drive. Believe me. The entire drive. Even until I was sitting in the parking lot in front of the theater. The only thing that saved me from starting my car and driving away at this point was the fact that I remembered this theater has ticket purchasing machines. I wouldn't have to stand in line, by myself, and ask the cashier for one ticket for the 4:55 showing of The Descendants. Nope. I could walk right up to a beautiful piece of technology, select my show, swipe my card and voila! My ticket would print out and I'd be on my way to enjoy the movie. That was the easy part. I had forgotten about the part where you have to walk into the theater where everybody was already seated..(ugh, why did I waste those 5 minutes sitting in my car contemplating doing this when I could have been early and slid in unnoticed) I handed my ticket to the sweet boy who said "enjoy your show ma'am". Ma'am? Ew. If I'd been with someone else, he would have just given us our ticket stubs and said "enjoy the show". But because I was walking in alone, I was a ma'am. My mother is a ma'am. Not me.  I'm a Ms. Sorry mom. I walked down the hallway looking for theater 20. Yes, I live in California, and we have 21 theaters in our Regal, not 12. I paused for a moment as I approached the door, took a deep breath and entered. A brief premonition of the events that were about to occur flashed through my thoughts. I would walk down the corridor to get to the seats, round the corner to scan for an available seat, and a spotlight would shine down on me exposing me, by myself, to the entire theater. In one quick motion everyone would turn their heads, stare at me, and I would see all of their thoughts as conversation bubbles above their heads. "Poor thing, going to a movie by herself on a Saturday night"..."She must be single"..."Wow, she didn't have one friend who could join her?". Yes folks. That would be me. I would begin the ascent up the 40 steps (i counted) to get to the one available seat which would be located in the very middle of the row, forcing me to crawl over 15 people to get to it. My 3 inch boots would click on every step...I would start to tense up, and then, It would happen...I would trip (why did I wear 3 inch boots to the theater with 40 steps again?). I would trip, and, in slow motion, my popcorn would go flying out of my hands, my soda would break on the floor, splashing and covering the three rows of people next to me, and if there was any one last person not already staring at me during this ascent, he surely was now. I would look over, and there he would be sitting. The beautiful EMT I made eye contact with at Denica's, the local eatery, who looked like a cross between Mario Lopez and Taylor Lautner. (melt). 

Wait a second.

I didn't get any popcorn or soda. And this was a 4:55 showing on a Saturday afternoon of the Descendants. There were only old people in this show. 

How this over dramatized account of my first time taking myself to the movies actually played out was me walking steadily up the stairs to a row half empty, of old people, where I slumped comfortably into my seat and proceeded to silence my cell phone just as the lights dimmed and the previews began. It appeared as though I went completely unnoticed by everyone as they were eating their popcorn and conversing with their...friends. 

Of course I chose a movie that would drive me to alligator tears and gut-splitting laughter, all within 30 seconds of each other. No, I did not have someone to look at when I was laughing (louder than everyone else in the theater), or have a hand to hold while the tears streamed down my face. I had neither of those very familiar things. But at the end of the movie when the credits started rolling...I had, actually, enjoyed myself. It wasn't the scariest thing I had ever experienced in my life after all. Nope. In fact, should I still have no available friends after I return from Christmas at home, I will take myself to see The Vow. gosh I hope that doesn't happen. 

                                                                                           Golden Gate Bridge