Do you want to hear a story about The Best Day of My Life?
The Best Day of My Life occurred during O-Week. There was an expo on, showcasing all of the clubs and societies on offer at the university. I decided to have a look at it one day while I was there buying some books for my course. I am such a shy, nervous person that when I walked into the Brennan room, I was immediately so intimidated by everything that was going on that I ran straight back out again and called Liv to come and meet me. Liv has been my best friend since Year 7, and because we have known each other so long, she makes me feel more comfortable like less of a spaz. She is my security blanket, and I am hers too.
An hour or so later, and I tried again, but this time with my Livvy by my side. We checked out the stalls and I put my name down at a few. On the way out, I spotted the Newcastle Quidditch Society stall. I stopped. I looked at Liv. She looked at me. We each dared each other to sign up. I got some free badges. And that was it: The Best Day of My Life - although I didn’t know it at the time. It was so simple, and it may not seem like much, but it was the first domino to fall, starting off a chain reaction that I never could have predicted.
Liv and I couldn’t persuade any more of our high school buddies to join us, so we didn’t have a full team, but “that’s okay,” we said, “we will probably be able to find a team on the night of the AGM.” We walked in with that attitude, and ended up hovering at the door and glancing around nervously at all of the groups of people who clearly didn’t have room for a couple of strays like us. At one point, we noticed another girl standing close to us, waiting for her friends to show up, and introduced ourselves. And the rest is history.
Most friends don’t have a team name, but mine do. We are The Weasley Jumpers. We play Quidditch, and even though we aren’t very good at running or throwing or catching, and collapse after games out of breath and dying, we have endless amounts of fun.
We make plans. We have plans for survival in the event of a Zombie apocalypse, which involve a boat, and one of our groupies (who is a male, and also on the team now) wearing a skirt. We make spontaneous plans to socialize. We decide spontaneity is good, and in the same breath decide to plan better next time. We have plans to release an album, and to open a brothel. (We each have prostitute alter egos, which involve a name, smell and nationality. I am Belle Tobruk, a Welsh prostitute who smells like grass.)
We have amazing inside jokes (eggplants and bitches). We have raced Daleks on a pool table. We bond over op-shopping and Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. We have petrol pigs. McDonalds hates us. When we are drunk or tired enough, we sing along to Dr. Horrible’s Sing-a-Long Blog.
And all of this makes me feel warm inside.
From time to time, I still find myself trying to understand how all of this happened. How I went from someone no one understood to someone with the most amazing friends in the world in just a few short months and a few games of Quidditch.
Life is beautiful and random, and sometimes your best day will be something which isn’t much to look at. And sometimes, just sometimes, being shy will change your life.
“Voldemort out, bitches.”
1 comments:
Emma! You almost made me cry in the AIC. That's not nice. We are pretty lucky. Almost impossibly lucky.
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