This all started with a dream. THIS being the story before your eyes... it's where you fit in.
'The Dream' was of me, back in a high school that was completely unlike the one I actually went to.
A girl (or woman) stands before me. Her hair is lighter than I remember it. Not overly long and rather boyish. Have only one line in this dream, it is: "Hey, I like your hair." She says thanks, and I follow her down some stair. I discover there is a pony tail hidden behind her almost blond head of hair... of course, she is:
Mullet Girl.
Reaching the first floor, she turns to me, as she speaks I become aware of the reality outside my dreams (I have a girlfriend and it isn't her) She say "I have something I really want to tell you". I know she never said these words to me in reality.
An alarm rings and the dream is dispelled. I awake in a bed in a different country with my girlfriend of four and a half years. At no point after this dream did I look in the mirror, I ran around getting ready for work, occasionally writing bits of this story on my laptop. But lets say I look in the mirror. I see a white guy. He's me. Where I live now people would say that the guy I am is 'good looking'. Where I lived before, people would say that I look like every other guy with almost blond hair and almost blue eyes. Almost good looking. I got a decent sized nose, and my face has been compared to Uma Thurman, the actress who portrayed 'the Bride' in the Kill Bill films, (mostly because of my nose).
I have a Sampson-esq belief that my hair is the source of my esthetic appeal. When my hair is long, it looks great. When it is short I look like a cute little boy. It is always at least long enough to pull.
Okay I this morning I hardly took a good look at myself in the mirror, but now we're one night prior. I'm about to shower... I look at myself in the nude. I got muscly legs. Too much biking and walking, can't see my butt, but I know it is shapely. Not unlike a Mullet; I am muscles on the bottom and bones on the top. My mid-section is somewhere between a gut and simply a full belly. Some folks say I'm getting fat, others say I'm getting skinny... I know nothing has changed. My mid section simply bridges the mass of my lower body to the litheness of my upper body.
There's one truly unique physical characteristic about me that has absolutely no bearing in this story. My right hand is deformed, slightly smaller muscle growth all along my right arm, no pectoral muscle on the right side, my fingers are the length of small chocolate bars you get at Halloween and are rather claw like as they only bend at the knuckle join.
It had to be said, as this is an attempt at non-fiction, and yet I wanted to give it no attention at all, because in my experience this un-important physical characteristic cements in certain people's mind and becomes a trait by which they define me. "That guy has a small hand!" People who truly know me, as I invite you the reader to do, almost always forget about the hand. If I need to refer to myself within this story, lets just my name is Semalhan.Yes, a very Anglo-saxon name.
One final detail on my physical appearance, I have acne. Always have, always will. There will always be a pimple somewhere on my body, and I hates it. Not enough to sign over my endorsement for a skin cleansing product, but it is always with me, reminding me; "you're not so good looking".
Presently I am in another country, but the realities of my present day life have no bearing on the story I want to tell, the story of
"Mullet Girl"
Perhaps the reader is familiar with what a girl is, that will not be explained. But we have reached a point where describing a mullet may be helpful to some...
A mullet is a hairstyle, but it is also a hairstyle that can be considered out of style. Famous description goes as follows; "Business in the front, party in the back." The hair on the front of the head is short, usually not long enough to cover the ears, and the hair on the back of the head is doubly as long.
There is a notion that because the mullet is the antithesis of popular, someone who sports a mullet is out of touch with style. I do not know. I have had a mullet before, to be ironic. I believe it can be stylish. It makes a statement. Myself, being a person who believes that my hair is the source of any aesthetic appeal, diminishes its control over me by having a hairstyle that counters notions of popular style. It take me down a few notches, just like the acne.
Mullet Girl did not have a traditional mullet, it could hardly even be called a mullet, but I did not know her name at first, and categorizing her hair as a mullet, helped set her apart from everyone else. A trail blazer. Someone who stands out because she does not fit in.
Her bangs reached just past her eyebrows and was cut gradually longer as it marched down the sides of her face to her ears. Almost like icicles. And then even longer on the back on her head.
She caught my eye in the fall of 2005. It was the first year of college. In residence, on campus. My residence was in fact the furthest building from any lecture halls. Of the four buildings that made up the village of my particular residence, our shared cafeteria was across a small goose infested river. I saw her in the cafeteria. Her hair was distinct, but I think it was because it did not conceal her face, that I truly noticed how stunning she was. I think she had long eyelash, or perhaps just dark eyelashes. She had a distinctly pronounced chin that shaped her smile. Think she had an endering mole to the left of her chin. If you want to see an actually picture, look up the actress Nora Zehetner, from the movie 'Brick' and then overlay the description I have just given. Her eyes are captivating.
I am not telling a love story. I was not in love with Mullet Girl. She was an amazing person I got to share some time with and beyond that, there was nothing else we were ever going to do. Our lives brought us close but not together. I was a perfect gentlemen, she was a driven woman, we neither hurt nor damaged the other, and that is something I hold onto with pride.
At the time we met, Facebook was just become widely available, and yet I don't think it played a massive role in our friendship. Perhaps nothing more than posting photos and brief chatting... I can't remember.
So, up to this point I have described my first sightings of a stunning individual. I wanted to tell some friends about this person in the cafeteria who captivated me every time I saw her. I believe I gave her the name Mullet Girl. The name was given as a means of distinction, not in order to demean.
I have found myself often latching onto standout features of people I meet (both men and women) and liking them more than I should, based solely on these unique physical attributes.
Anyhoo, lets discuss how someone moves from admiring a person from afar to actually meeting them. Fate. I could have waited five years for Fate to put me in the right spot at the right time, but it was less than a year.
To describe what transpired to put me in her company I need to talk about a good friend I made in university and a good friend I was dependant on for most of university , the latter being a substance rather than an actual person.
The friend I made needs a name... but I don't really want to name things in this story... her name was Skunky. Skunky is beautiful, athletic and simply a joy to be around. She has a simply beautiful face. It takes no time at all to register her as beautiful and then become jealous of all who get her attention. Skunky's heritage originates partly from the Caribbean, and culturally she knows that side of her heritage pretty well, but most people are certain that she is Asian, upon meeting her.
She is not.
I could have fallen for Skunky, simply based on her looks. But I quickly learned that who I am, and who she is, despite similarities, would result in mutually assured destruction if I pursued her in any romantic way. I still love Skunky, and I love her more-so because we were friends.
Skunky lived in the same residence complex, across the river on the same side as the cafeteria. We were studying the exact same thing. We brought our two groups of floormates together (almost literally by chucking several picnic tables in the river).
So, hanging out on Skunky's floor was common for me and my friends. At some point we were hanging out and Skunky disappeared to her room along with another male friend whom I knew she was also quite close to (if not more-so). Quickly I pieced together that they must have been establishing an exclusive relationship and I was quite hurt that they simply wouldn't tell me. I later learned that they were so uncertain of what they had, that they didn't feel comfortable defining it. (If they had they would have saved many a boy some heartbreak). Anyways, I was hurt, and likely inebriated, so I left in a tizzy.
The second 'friend' whom I was dependant on throughout university was marijuana. Where I lived, that drug was quite common, available, and generally thought of in the same way as underage drinking. At that age I had actively incorporated the act of smoking into who I considered myself to be. That was not a great thing to do.
I ran into a buddy as I left leaving. A short, white, eastern European, whom I believed capable of stepping out of a car crash and go to a party. We agreed to have a smoke together.
We popped out the back door to have a smoke and discovered five excited young women from the lower level of the same residence as Skunky. I knew these girls to be acquaintances of the Mullet Girl. They were delightful to talk to, but I also knew I found my 'in'.
I delighted them with whatever skill I had on hand. Being a gentlemen, being funny, being nonchalant etc. It worked; they invited me to their floor. There was a small party going on. Their floor was an all girls floor. Thinking back, I have no idea where a guy would go to use the washroom. Anyways, roughly ten people gathered in a feverishly decorate bedroom of two girls, I was led in and presented to everyone.
I like to believe that when our eyes met, Mullet Girl her eye widened as if to say "It's you!" because mine certainly did.
That first year, I made a great effort to learn her actual name and withhold any utterance of Mullet Girl in her presence.
Her friends were nice, and many of them quite beautiful but even the way she comported herself that first time we actually met impressed me. Not falling over herself with excitement over A NEW BOY! But not shy. Maybe she was intrigued. I was intrigued and I'm sure it was as evident as if I was wearing a shirt that said : "I am intrigued by you and none other"
My story is non-fiction, my memories may have melded. I blame Marijuana. If someone had made me realize that the way that drug affected me was causing me to forget details about times I wanted to hold onto, perhaps I would have quit smoking much earlier in life. I actually think that when I met them there was a guy named Mike Dang, and he and I pretended to know each other even though we were strangers.
So, I believe as the night wore on, and friends went off to sleep, our excitement only grew.
Along with three other friends, we acquired some saran wrap, and decided to cause some trouble.
First stop, my roommate. A tall, incredibly handsome guy, with olive skin, a gentle demeanor and always a booming laugh waiting to escape. He also slept like a comatose log.
At that time he was in the lower part of a bunk bed we constructed. No one had expressly shown us that it would be possible, but him being an engineer and me being the son of an engineer figured out that our beds were actually made to be used as bunks. Anyway we sealed him in, the perfect crime. I would later sleep right above and awaken to discover that my roommate had in fact gotten out of bed without noticing we sealed him in. I also learned latter that he had met all of those girls a night or two before I arrived at college.
The night ended and it was a glorious memory, that may have occurred at a entirely different time. I know I hung out with Mullet Girl and some of her friends a few more times that first year, but no stories come to mind.
Second year was going to be different... or the same... More likely the same.
There is a yearly celebration of the predominantly Germanic municipality that encompassed my college. It happened around October every year and developed some corresponding name like Yearly October Party. I only went twice, but my first time was that second year. And I don't believe I orchestrated a single thing (having attended with some old friends from high school) but I ran into Mullet Girl and we left the venue on the same bus, sitting next to each other.
I don't think we were being overly touchy in the slightest. If she didn't make a move, there was no way I would make a move.
I remember ending up at her house (a few miles from my own) simply hanging out as her inebriated friends went off to bed each other. We were sitting in the basement hall, I remember her giving me a small kiss followed by a "Thanks for an awesome night" and then her phone rang.
A friend was very drunk and stuck downtown. This friend had a history of causing sever drama while intoxicated and at this time was in hysterics. If I had received a similar call from a friend, of course I would fly to their aid. It was a good two hours after the Yearly October festivities had ended, and I suspect Mullet Girl had drunken very little. She assured me she was fit to drive, and I do not doubt her judgement. I think I walked home. But I have a separate memory in where I went with her. Anyways, I think she took care of her friend and I left.
Was I mad at her friend? No, I don't think so.
I never wanted to take Mullet Girl all for myself. We had a really wonderful night, we were both focusing on the other and then our attention was diverted. I cannot curse Fate for ending the same evening that brought us together.
I believe that individuals each develop their own personal way that they find potential partners are establishing the decision to form an exclusive partnership. I have never broken that pattern. Each exclusive relationship I've had has fallen into that pattern. If I am interested in someone and the 'perfect storm' does not materialize then we don't never get very far.
My pattern is as follows; I need a situations in which I and the person I am interested in, see each other every day for about a week. Typically it is an overnight commitments too. Examples include: working at an overnight camp, being on a school trip, or live-in workplace etc.
The situation presents the opportunity to be around the other through exerting minimal effort. It's relaxed. "Hey, let's hangout." Is nonchalant. Then we kiss, then we are exclusive.
I have never really asked someone out on a date. Usually a week after private rendez-vous it is decided; "yeah, we're dating." I am never willing to 'make a move'. If someone made a move on me, and I was not interested in them, I probably would never talk to them again. I will not gamble on a friendship in-which the other person might not be interested in a physical or exclusive relationship. Mullet Girl is the perfect example. I gambled nothing and lost nothing. Throughout my time in college we were always friends, never much more. I don't regret that.
I told her once that I wanted to hang out with her, just her, rather than hangout out a party with a bunch of friends. She expressed to me that it simply was a bad idea. I don't remember if she ever deeply expressed how she felt about me (other than typical "I like you a lot"), but she was honest with me. She had bigger priorities than a boy. She was quite the skilled curler, and where I'm from I can hardly think of a more celebrated and respected sport than curling. I'm sure she's utterly captivating on ice. It's a sport that a skilled player can play for their entire life.
Curling is played on ice, by two teams of 5 players. It is like bowling. Each team takes turn sliding granite rocks down an icy lane towards a target painted on the ice. Closest to the centre, wins. Sometimes you want to bump the opponents rocks out, other times you want to block your own stones from being bumped... truly riveting!.
Mullet Girl came from a family of curlers. To let her game slide (no pun intended) simply because of a boy was un-acceptable. Also I think because I had the same name as one of her brothers (Semalhan) also made me less appealing.
Mullet Girl agreed to fit me into her busy schedule and let me cook her (a brilliant move on my part). I came to her place with everything I needed and made her something to eat (along with an awful mess). I thought I could impress her with Pad Thai, which can be the most simple and tasty dish depending on how well you source the ingredients. My pot and pan were not large enough and I used the wrong kind of rice noodles but here is my basic recipe.
1 broccolli (divided into tiny florets)
1 onion (chopped)
1 yellow (or red) pepper (chopped)
1 chicken breast (optional)
some cooked shrimp (optional)
some tofu (optional)
Cilantro (I usually steal one sprig from the market and conceal it in the broccoli)
Rice noodles*
1 tbsp Oyster sauce
1 tbsp Fish sauce
¾ cup Pad thai sauce
½ cup Peanut butter
Soy sauce.
¼ cup (maybe more) Spicy thai sauce (similar to plum sauce)
Ginger ale
½ cup of peanuts or cashews (chopped)
Step 1
Add a little soy sauce and water to a pan and sauté onion, pepper and broccoli. (I usually boil the broccoli quickly to ensure it is soft)
Fry tofu in a separate pan. Fry chicken in a separate pan. You should select at least one of these damn options. With the chicken, when I know it is cooked I add some spicy thai sauce, ginger ale and shrimp, then cook till the liquid evaporates.
Also when veggies are cooked I add a splash of ginger ale and wait for it to cook off in order to soften everything up
Step 2
Get the biggest pot you can, fill it with water and get that water mega hot. (This is for cooking rice noodles) Some varieties of rice noodles are very easy to cook; simply boil water, turn off heat, add noodles and soak for five minutes. Some are insanely complex. The time I cooked for Mullet Girl, the rice noodles were thick and required more time and effort than I allotted. They brought the whole thing down.
Step 3
When the noodles are entirely soft ou should drain, put back into the pot, add everything you've cooked so far and add all the sauces and peanut butter, stir fry over medium heat until everything is mixed. Put on a plate and add the chopped nuts and chop up the cilantro and sprinkle on top... the end. (of both the recipe and endeavor)
I made this pad thai for Mullet girl before I had perfected the recipe. And I had quite a few setbacks. This, quite possibly, was equally to blame as the earlier inebriated friend preventing us from becoming closer.
I should mention that despite attending the same college as Mullet Girl, we never had a single class together. The second semester of that second year I started dating another women (whom fell into my personal matrix resulting in an exclusive relationships). Let's call my first and only college girlfriend 'Willy' (a la Willy Wonka). She and I met in a strange class about Art's Camps for Children with disabilities. Two times a week we'd learn about implementing various art based activities for kids with disabilities and then at the end of the semester we ran a camp. Willy was partnered with my good friend Skunky, and thusly over a week we got to know each other and once the class ended Willy was interested in continuing to hang out. After a night together at a bar, my friend followed us back to her place, I firmly spelled out that I needed him to 'take a hike' and we made out on her trampoline! Success!
Also hilariously, my friend from first year, who had know about Mullet Girl from the moment I laid eyes on her, ended up in a Speech Composition class with both Willy and Mullet Girl. I was taking that very class the same semester, but I could not get into the same class(though I don't think I wanted to). Anyways, my friend in the class reported that, both girls argued on many issues. Neither had any idea I was acquainted with the other, but they came from different worlds and they clashed like strong, opinionated titans.
There's a problem when you look to Fate to help you meet a girl, sometimes you are so desperate that you look Fate, straight in the eye and you tell it "Listen Fate, I need you to do this for me." Fate will tell you to eat a bag of shit.
In the third year Skunky and I ended up living together. The relationship with Willy ended as she finished college and moved to the other side of the country. Skunky had now established and defined her relationship with the man who today is her husband but in third year they were not yet living together.
I think I attended one concert with Mullet Girl that semester. A month or two latter a popular band was frequenting the same, small upstairs venue, and I was sure Mullet Girl would be there. The concert was the night before a big project was due. A project Skunky and I were partners for. I was slacking, like hardcore, and before finishing my sections I ran off to this concert... that Mullet Girl never showed up to. Fate was mad at me. Skunky was really mad at me. We still talk about it to this day. I'm really sorry about that shitty move.
In my last year I made an incredibly bad choice to dress as Uma Thurman's character 'The Bride' from Kill Bill. Finding a cheap, blond wig, in my size proved impossible. I tried chopping a blond wig to fit the hairstyle of the character and ended up looking like shit.
The beginning of the night I met up with a friend dressed as Amy Winehouse, a deceased, (then living) troubled singer. My friend who resembled Amy Winehouse quite closely brought me to a party where I was the only white guy. (My college could be considered 30% Asian students, 30% Brown students, and 30% White students). But I was the only a)white guy and b)guy dressed as a girl. As such I was quite the oddity and I left halfway through the party. I made my way over to a party at Mullet Girl's house. At the prior party I drank copious amounts trying to convince myself I fit in. I was loaded. I also felt like a big back of shit. My costume sucked, I sucked and I don't think Mullet Girl was quite interested in hanging out when I showed up. I cannot remember what she was dressed as either. But I made a friend anyways. There was a guy, as loaded as me, who I knew had no place at the party as he knew no one. He was dressed as a hockey player and I asked him if he wanted to go outside and punch each other. I think I was really worried about him at that party, recognizing that he had a lot of energy that could quickly spin out of control, hell, so did I. So we went shot for shot (punching) in the backyard and I welcomed any mark he could make on me, catharsis and all that. I think we pretended like we were really mad at each other, all the while sharing the secret that we were actually having fun. Honestly, that might have been the most fun I had all night!
I went to ten different parties at Mullet Girls house, and often the houses exuded just as much character as she did. The way her friends occupied the space, where I sat, where I fit in still feels like it was a theatrical play. I am unsure what the story was, how it ended. I am here now, but unclear how it all affected me.
I think it was like we were two creatures from different realities, and even though we liked each other, we would pass right through the other if we got too close. Perhaps this story was rather dull. I made no promise of a passionate romance. The story is a chapter in our lives, a chapter that brought me here.
In my dream she said that she had something she wanted to tell me. Whatever she was going to tell me, the words would have come from my subconscious. A subconscious that knew I am presently in a committed relationship. I could have tracked her down, seen what she is doing now, create some reason she appeared to me, but I have no need to do so.
College was a pretty rough time for me. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea who I was. The times I had with Mullet Girl are good ones. I didn't forget who I was. I didn't force something that was never meant to be.