18.09.2002 | 1:33 p.m.
random things continue to happen.

Monica and I are sitting on the bench outside the library. As usual, we are the quintessential motley crew. Monica in her black "Nightmare before Christmas" t-shirt, black crocheted jacket, black velvet skirt and black and white striped leggings. Aurina in her white GAP capri pants and her V-necked GAP sweater with a turqouise tank top underneath. Enid and Rebecca, as we affectionately like to call ourselves. We're talking about our play and trying to figure who would play "Harrison", a character who is so conventional, he'd be difficult to cast. Monica smiles politely at someone behind me. I turn to look who it is and it is someone I don't know. "Hi!" he says to us, and walks inside the Taylor building.

"Who is he?" Monica asks me.

"I don't know! I thought you knew him!"

"Strange.."

We laugh. We get back to talking about the play. We have serious concerns about the director of the play. We're trying really hard to not make it one of those plays where people just know the writers are female. Student directors are really hard to come by in our school; we don't want Murray or Dr. Barclay to direct this. This is our baby. There are very few people we would trust with it. The boy comes out of the building. I shoot Monica an amused glance little knowing that he is standing right before the two of us. He's beautiful. Great build, dark wavy hair, blue eyes, crooked smile, navy sweater, gray pants. We both smile unsurely at him.

"Hi girls!"

"Hey.."

"You girls freshmen?" He says with a clearly European accent.

"Sophomores." We say in unison.

"Cool...I'm a freshman."

We nod mechanically.

"So you girls know Edward De Bono?"

"The fuck?" I'm thinking.

"The fuck?" Monica's thinking.

"Um...yeah.." I say. Memories of exercises with lateral thinking screw a smile on my face. I figure he probably overheard our conversation about the play. Either that, or he's on SERIOUS crack. I'm trying my best not to look at Monica - I know I will burst out laughing. I'm not paying much attention to their conversation. The number of random things that have happened to me lately is almost uncanny. No one believes half the stories I tell them anymore. They are so many and so outrageous.

"So...what are you studying?" He asks me first. "Sociology." I manage to say. He nods with either approval or awkwardness and looks at Monica. "English Lit." she says. I ask him what his major is and he shakes his head comically and says "Business Administration" with a very embarassed look on his face. I feel disappointment inside. Business majors are my biggest turn off. My biggest turn on is....

"Well. I want to major in film. But my father didn't let me. And he's paying for my education so..."

FILM.

"Film is my biggest interest!" I blurt out, all my disorientation disappearing. "What do you want to do? Direct?"

"D.O.P actually. Director of Photography. Art Director. Things like that. I really wanted to go to London Film School. You know it? In Covent Garden? Really fucking wanted to go there."

"Yeah I do know it. Wow. What are you doing in a shit hole like this?"

"Trying to save my ass from being kicked." We laugh. His accent is terribly cute. His gaze is piercing to the point where I can't look at him without being intimidated. His demeanor is silk smooth and I chide myself for being so unsettled by this. He asks us our names. Where we're from. We tell him. Aurina. Monica. Bombay. New Jersey. We say, "You?" Eugene. Russia. I was thinking Polish. Pretty close.

"How old are you girls?"

"I'm um...18.." I say,embarrased because he looks much older than I am. Monica says she's 19. He asks us to guess his age. "Uh...22?" I say, cautiously.

"No,20!" Pause. "You...you like philosophy,don't you?"

He is talking to me. His blue eyes are talking directly to me.

"Um....sure.." I stammer. He is on crack. He is definitely on crack. I'm not sure how he expected me to respond to that. Monica pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Offers one to him. He accepts graciously. She lights hers; she lights his. He talks about wanting to minor in Psychology or "perhaps even Sociology" and winks at me while saying this. He is Harrison. Oh dear God,I have found Harrison.

"I'm sorry,I have to ask. Do you act?"

"I knew you would ask him!" Monica says under her breath.

"No..."

"Dammit.." I say. He looks at me quizically and then asks if either of us are taking Psych 150. We tell him both of us are. He seems excited by this and says he's trying to get into the class. We tell him the professor is crazy. It's 4:16. Class starts in 14 minutes. He says he's going to go back to his room and that he'll see us in class. He walks away. Monica and I raise our eyebrows and shrug.

"Um. What just happened?" I ask her. "Edward De Bono? Uhhhh..?"

"I don't know. But I'm really excited by the prospect of him being in our psych class. Finally a reason to go to class. The guy is...really...strange...but....interesting..."

I agree whole-heartedly and she can see it in my smile. We walk into the building, climb two floors to our classroom, wait for class to start, wait for him to show up. He never does.

deja vu? | jamais vu?