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Brad and I never actually lived together but we had an intense eight month relationship. I guess that qualifies as a major thing. For those few fleeting months I was in cloudland, walking on air and studying Cosmopolitan like a rookie student looking for ways to sexually fulfill my Mr. Right. But truthfully, I was in so deep I stopped talking to my friends and couldn't think of anything else but him for the better part of a year, which was perfect because that's when my parents tore up their roots, sold everything that remained of my childhood and left on their pilgrimage of self-discovery.

I met Brad in a perfect way. The way you see in movies and Hollywood musicals. It was a Friday evening and Grace, Mimi and I had stocked up on munchies – tacos and guacamole, lime and black pepper chips, buffalo chicken pieces, hot pickled eggplant, olives and a selection of sinful cheeses. On top of that we'd each brought a bottle of wine worth more than twenty dollars. Sipping wine and nibbling on our favourite snacks, we sat back in my pre-Marilyn living room and watched old movies. Mimi chose All About Eve while Grace had raided the DVD cupboard at school and come back with the original Superman 1 movie.

After a couple of hours of Bette Davis and her rosebud lips, we were ready for some escapism so we plugged in Superman and drooled over Christopher Reeves' tight pecs and sky blue eyes. We were almost bawling when we got to the part where Superman lands on Lois's balcony then whisks her into the air in a cosmic piggyback for an intimate flight above the towers of Gotham City.

"I swear I could claw Margot Kidder's eyes out," said Mimi, mopping at her eyes. "I mean why doesn't anything like that ever happen to me."

"You're afraid of heights for one thing," said Grace.

"Well maybe even a helicopter ride would be good," I said, trying not to burst Mimi's fantasy bubble.

"Hey I'd take a frigging elevator ride if Superman was pushing the right buttons," said Grace finishing off the guacamole.

After Superman had flown off into the sunset and all the salsa was gone, we drained our glasses and, feeling adventurous, decided to take a cab to a new nightclub Mimi had heard about.

For some reason I decided I had to wash my hair because I'd wiped hot eggplant oil in it which made Mimi and Grace crazy waiting another thirty minutes. I was so rushed I didn't have time to use the flatiron or apply the usual amount of makeup or put it into an Audrey pleat.

"You look like – like Juliet," Mimi said when I emerged from my bathroom complete with light makeup and wavy hair.

"Do we know a Juliet?" I said.

"No you nerd – Juliet as in Romeo and Juliet. Verona – Shakespeare and all that star-crossed lovers stuff," said Grace who used to be an English teacher until she got sick of the crazy marking load that had her falling asleep at one o'clock in the morning over endless papers on why marijuana should be legalized.

"You should go au-naturel more often," said Mimi, touching my unruly curls. "You look luminous."

The spinning disco ball scattered white flakes of light across the floor, dappling the walls with stars; glamorous lovers snuggled together in plush blue velvet booths, and I floated into the nightclub feeling like a fairytale princess, flying high on half a bottle of $23 Cabernet.

Mimi grabbed us a booth right near the dance floor and, shaken by the pounding of Deejay MDM's Hotlips' club mix we ordered more drinks. Grace chose the special "Blue Balls" Martini which consisted of two pale looking lychee nuts speared on a cocktail stick, floating in a fluorescent indigo liquid. Together we raised our glasses to toast the quickly approaching summer, and I almost chewed off the end of my cocktail stick when I glanced across the dance floor and saw Superman gazing right at me.

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