- Lady Bird Johnson, Public Roads: Where Flowers Bloom

I got flowers, today*. Delivered to work. I’ve never, ever had flowers delivered to me at work before. When they were dropped off by the courier, I actually told him he probably had the wrong place. Then he showed me the envelope. It had my full name on it.

Just like last weeks date, this is also outside my realm of experience, and I felt awkward. Even more so when everyone from work wanted to know who it was from, and was making random guesses from anyone I might have mentioned, ever. No, its not a secret admirer. No its not the boy from the ski trip. No, its not that guy in the facebook photos. No, its not anyone you know. NOITSNOTCANWEPLEASESTOPTALKINGABOUTITNOW! * embarrassed hiding*

They were very pretty flowers. Iris’s, and sunflowers and lilies. Yellow + purple flowers + greenery I don’t recognize. Very pretty, indeed. I unwrapped the outside extras, carefully unravelling the ribbons, unfolding the coloured paper. I put the flowers into a mason jar with water, and left them sitting in the kitchen. By this point, I felt less awkward about them, and had allowed myself a quiet moment of sweetness.

Still, I’ve left them sitting in the kitchen, instead of at my desk. It was an incredibly sweet gesture, an incredibly sweet thing to do, which I appreciate. I suspect if this happened more often, I’d have accepted it gracefully, without the awkwardness, without trying to read in too much as to why, and they’d probably be sitting on my desk, instead of in another room.

Is it odd that I’m this uncomfortable with traditional gestures of sweetness? With things that are unexpected? Or unprompted and out of my control?? Is it weird that I read into them, trying to figure out what it means, any possible ramifications, and any sneaky motives that might be less than shiny? I almost feel like I don’t deserve such gestures. I feel very silly about this situation, which I shouldn’t really.

After all, they’re just flowers, right?

* I didn’t write this today, when it was posted. I wrote it last week, but last week I was posting about hand feeding stingrays, and 365 shots. You know how it goes. *shrug*

I’d call myself a pretty good judge of character, and generally, I surround myself with some amazing people. My friends are brilliant, really really brilliant. And these past few weeks? There’s one friend in particular who has gone over and above, and been especially amazing and brilliant.

He’s picked me up when I was stranded at a petrol station, even though he was already in bed when I called. He’s the kind of person that drove me back home instead of going to the snow (even though it was a bluebird day with 10cm on trail powder) because I was horribly sick. He’s the guy that makes sure I get home safe after a night at the bar, who will pay my share of the taxi if I don’t have any cash. He’s the kind of guy that lets us use his bach free of charge. That will split a fillet-o-fish with me, because I hadn’t tried one before, and I was scared that I wouldn’t like it.

He’s the guy that worked the shit jobs at the bar with me, who taught me how to play poker, that did the scary high wire adventures with me, and cheered me on even when I’d already decided that I was going to fall. He’s the kind of guy who will do jumping shots anywhere I want to do them, if I ask nice. Who will share his breakfast with me, if I have none. He’s listened to my dramas, and passed me the trash can when the alcohol disagreed with my stomach. He tried to teach me how to play Battlefield 1943, and didn’t laugh too much when I crashed the plane upside down, or fired at the sky, and cheered me on when I finally did manage to kill someone.

He’s an amazing, brilliant, extra-ordinary friend. And I just wanted to say, Lyth, you are amazing. And I appreciate you muchly.

<3!

Oh July, you were brilliant. There was a lot of adventuring happening this month. There were snow trips, and trips to Wellington. I did a week of jumping, I watched The Third + Fourth Quarters debut short film on the big screen, with an audience (which was amazing!). I started Maori lessons, I painted my nails a lot, I watched my friend beat the World Record for Longest Solo Performance, I had and resolved warranty dramas with me car, said goodbye to a few London bound friends, went on a date, saw a handful of film festival films, took out my sternum piercing, and generally downplayed a lot of the drama that happened this month.

Generally, it was another good month. Fingers crossed there are more months like this one.

1st of July 2010 to 31st July 2010. 299 down. 66 to go.

Past Months: October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June.

This was one of those random, unlikely to happen, “throw it out there”, “I have my whole life to do these” items on The List. When I realised that actually, Kelly Tarltons (the local aquarium) DOES let the public hand feed their stingrays, I was totally on board. I convinced my best friend, The Second Quarter + my girl JZ to come stand in a pool with stingrays and hold out a bit of fish with me.

In short, it was brilliant. And scary, and amazing but mostly quite scary. They were HUGE, and completely unlike any other animal I’d ever encountered up close. They were a little bit slimy to touch, and to be honest, they freaked me out quite a lot.

Still, these ones were pretty tame. They still had their barbs, but were polite enough to move them away from us when they passed. They’re apparently quite familiar with people, which was nice for us.

Feeding them was also pretty random, as when you dropped the fish, they hoovered the water to get the fish, and they beat their wings to keep themselves upright against the hoovering. It was an unexpected thing, that made me drop the fish the first time, and made me unsure whether I’d actually fed the string ray the second.

It was a brilliant experience, totally memorable, and very exciting. If you have a chance to do something like it? Do it. Absolutely just do it.

PS:
- If you can’t see the video, check it out on vimeo here.
- All the footage in the pool is blurry, cause the camera was safe and dry in a ziplock bag. I didn’t fancy getting my video camera wet.
- The rest of the footage that is dark (especially in the beginning) is because I didn’t use my brain or think about light sources when I took the footage. Fail.
- For those of you that were there, or heard about it from those that were there, yes I edited out the squeal. I’m sure you can imagine it at about the 2:18 mark.

It’s been a long, long time since I was taken on a date, a proper date. The kind where it’s not through friends of friends, so there’s no group outings to break the ice. The kind where he calls instead of txts, to ask if I’d like to go on a movie-dinner date. I like that he actually called it a date, no implied meanings, no wriggle room for assumptions, are we/aren’t we wonderings. A date he said.

The kind of date where he picks me up, from my house, and knocks on the front door. Where he wears a shirt, with a collar. Where he drives us, in his big, lumbering ute to the restaurant, where he’s already made 7pm reservations. Where he pays for the (ridiculously expensive) dinner, without a thought. Where we hold hands while we walk to the movie theatre, and where he doesn’t let go all the way through the movie. And when he drops me off, a single, sweet kiss is all he requests before he’s on his way again.

It’s the kind of date where feel like I’m being wooed. There are no dirty, suggestive one liners. It’s all above the board, clean and kind of sweet like. Gentlemanly. Mostly, anyway.

Perhaps its just me, but I feel out of my depth here. I’ve never been wooed like this. I’ve never been carefully courted, and I feel like I’m on unstable ground, unsure of what I’m meant to do, or react. I’m a straight up kind of girl, and usually lay out what it is I want, we play by my rules and within these lines. But this? This is on a completely different level to my lines, and rules. Its different, and outside of my experience. I’m unsure of myself.

It’s a very odd place to be in, and is both novel and unsettling. I’m not sure I want it, but for now, I think I’m going to go with it, I think. Be brave. It might turn into something wonderful, or it might turn out to be nothing at all.