Thursday, December 1, 2011

west elm; kind of like growing up.

i started crying almost immediately, which surprised me. i almost never cry. upon getting off the phone with my sister tonight, it was clear i would be going to this event alone.

boo hoo, right? god. you may be a yuppie cry about going to craft workshops at home stores alone. the logical answer (for me) would be to not go, if i was so worried about it. (i'll be real with you. i had visions of walking into a store packed with very lovely and very mean ladies in striped shirts and top knots, all falling silent when i dared to step across the threshold.) but something about me wanted this evening.

had i woken up today as a normal, well-adjusted, recent college grad, i'd call someone else after my sister declined. but you know what? my other friend was working. (just so you know, that last sentence is the most honest portrayal of my life at this very moment. i've been blessed with these beautiful, incredible friends...and none of them live within three hours of me.)

so you know who i called? the most random person ever. i mean really, this person is exceptionally random in a room of random people. not because we don't have that strong acquaintance connection thing going, but because we're really just totally different people. and i can only say this because i know she agrees. in conversation, we'd probably refer to each other as "sweet," and that's about as far as it would go.

i texted her, held my breath, and she responded. "sure. sounds fun." and off we were, speeding towards the glowing beacon of the unknown universe that was this event at west elm.

here's a shocker: me and the rando had fun. actually, the whole night was great. it felt very anonymous, do you know what i mean? like walking around as a comfortable chicken with your head cut off, experiencing the world, and knowing very soon it will all be over.

i dropped rando off at her apartment, and then i read books at barnes and noble. as i flipped through the first few pages of five different books, i felt thoroughly pleased with myself for pushing through the sadness and awkwardness that usually accompanies unknown situations for me. instead of giving up, i drove to west elm with a girl i hardly knew and i had a really nice night. and to top it all off, when i walked to my car, the air smelled like vanilla powdered donuts.

all of this is to say: tonight, i surprised myself. and maybe my world (which ended up looking a teensy bit more like a grown up world) surprised me too.

and that's the story of how i grew up a little bit at west elm.