I decided to try just one more corner of Michael’s for clear round large stones for a Christmas project, and as I turned I saw out of the corner of my eye a woman whom I could swear was someone I knew from high school. This was odd because I don’t usually look at people’s faces. I stopped and I could not go on, I knew that it was indeed her and that I would never forgive myself for not saying hi.
So I turned and said, “Amy Sloan?” She froze. I could tell she recognized me, but then of course I doubted because we weren’t really that close, and it has been twelve years, and I am fairly forgettable, not to mention 40 pounds heavier, disheveled, wearing glasses and no make-up and pushing three children in the cart, one of whom had fluff all over his face (how?) and another had a boogey nose.
But she did remember me, and had thought before I turned around, “hey, that looks like Heather.” But in LA everyone looks like someone, and how did she know I lived here? Really, what are the chances that two girls from Whitehorse would run into each other in the Glendale Michael’s?
This morning had been very frustrating. My sweet, wonderful four year old had finally had enough of being cooped up inside and watching movies. This morning he dumped my newly-filled 10 pound cannister of King Arthur Flour White Whole Wheat on the floor because he had been around last night when the box came from my mother-in-law and was offended that I had filled the cannisters without him. When I sent him to his room he instead went into our room, woke up Paul, and lied to him, telling him that I had instructed him to go play with Daddy. This morning my dear, sweet four-year old became a cannibalist pirana and had chomped both younger boys. In cahoots with his brother he emptied the miscellaneous kitchen tools drawers. Naptime had not gone well, and by the time Aiden awoke I was in dire need of getting out of the house. I didn’t care that I was wearing grubby clean-the-bathroom clothes, my hair was disheveled, and my face was spotted — we were going out!
So there I was in Michael’s, counting down the hours for the day to be over, or at least naptime, or at least something, but certainly not feeling especially excited about anything; and there I was trying to catch up with someone to whom I had always felt inferior. I even exclaimed, at one point, how embarassed I was that I was even out of the house looking like this. She laughed, she hadn’t even washed her face yet today. (But then, she can do that. She is one of those people who look good under all circumstances.) Both of us feeling grubby, both of us telling the other how she looks exactly the same as high school.
Hmmm, I have bad skin, disheveled hair, I’m clearly under-rested, and I dress slovenly, what does that say about high school? I’m choosing to blame it all on the grunge scene and not overthink things, after all, this post is about changing my mood to happy. I digress.
It was truly one of those fortuitous moments as we hastily exchanged phone numbers and exclaimed again to each other how much that chance encounter had made our days. It really did with me. Seeing her on Numb3rs was a cool, “hey I know her!” experience, but seeing her for real, hugging and chatting, that really made my day. Los Angeles can be such a lonely place, but today it seemed a little less so. Now if I can just get these three boys to nap then I know I can tackle the mess in the kitchen, a task I wasn’t sure I could handle before we went out this morning.