foxydaisy

So I just watched Imagine Me & You for the first time.

Sigh.

I am such a sap. It there's anything that makes me bawl like a little girl more than a chick flick, it's a gay chick flick.

I was initially going to watch it with Poochie, but we never had the free time, so I just watched it at home, alone last night. I'm actually really glad that I didn't see it with her, because not only was I sobbing through the whole thing, I was really relating to it.

Basically, a straight woman falls in love with the lesbian florist who does her wedding. When she's walking down the aisle, the florist is walking out of the church down the other side of the pews. As they pass each other, they both look down the row and get a glimpse of each other, and time just slows down for both of them.

They become friends, and in a later scene, they argue over dinner about the nature of falling in love. The married one says that she doesn't believe in love at first sight, and that love is about gradually getting to know someone, growing with them, and being warm and comfortable with them. But the florist disagrees, and says, "I think you know immediately. As soon as your eyes... then everything that happens from then on just proves that you had been right in that first moment. When you suddenly realize that you were incomplete and now you are whole..."

I remember the first time I saw Poochie as though time really did slow down. We were at a rock show, and I was sitting at the bar, and this girl walks past me who's just... incredible. She was exactly my ideal type. Faux-hawk. Siouxsie and the Banshees shirt. Screaming with attitude. Everything else in the bar just stopped, and she and I were the only ones in the whole room. Then I notice that she's there with another girl. Figures.

Later that night, I see her a second time, standing in the middle of the dance floor. She was standing next to her girl, who was really very pretty, but not particularly my taste. Then I started to second-guess myself.

My eyesight is horrible, plus I'd had a few drinks. I'm eyeing this androgynous little thing and thinking, "That's not a dyke... that's a guy. Some 18 year old kid. MOTHERFUCKER. Why does this ALWAYS happen to me?! AND he's with that really pretty girl, to boot. Mother. Fucker."

So then the singer of the band comes down off the stage during a guitar solo and starts dancing with the pretty girl and making out with her! I thought, "Well, either they aren't a couple or he doesn't mind his girlfriend making out with girls on the dance floor. Hmm."

After the show, I'm standing outside while my friends smoke, and that couple is sitting on the ground against the side of the building. The lead singer of the band drags me over to introduce me to them. I'm still on the fence as to whether this kid is a boy or a girl, but I'm not too interested because he/she has a girlfriend anyways. But it still bugged me. The name "Poochie" didn't help much. Either this is a really cute lesbian, or a punk kid. Grrr.

Maybe half an hour later, the lead singer pulls me aside and says, "You should talk to my friend, Poochie, I think she likes you. But she's kinda shy." So she was a chick. I should have trusted my instincts. And turns out the girl she was with was her roommate, not her girlfriend. She was single.

So I reintroduce myself at the bar and get into a conversation with this girl, and she's... really great. I was half expecting to get sloppy drunk and make out on the dance floor, and instead we sat at the bar together and discussed books and authors we enjoyed. I gave her my phone number, and she gave me a ride home. That was it. Didn't even kiss her. This was not what I was used to.

I ran into my roommate when I got home, and fell backwards onto his bed with a huge grin on my face. He goes, "What's up with you? You're, like, glowing." I told him, "I think I may have met someone tonight..."