My final year of high school was 1992-1993, it was also my first year voting in a political referendum, and I was SUPER EXCITED! I received my announcement in the mail; I had already been paying attention to the issues and had even done a project on The Charlottetown Accord when my father decided to tell me how to vote. I was offended and pointed out that I could vote however I wanted and he couldn’t tell me what to do. I remember his face like it was yesterday – stunned that I would dare say such a thing! I added that he wasn’t allowed in the voting box with me.
I became increasingly more irritable with my father the closer I got to leaving; he always got on my nerves. He loved to try to control me every waking moment; I was usually much better at covering up my irritability. I still did not have a driver’s license, I was pretty much terrified of my own shadow but put on a very courageous front; and I had little to no sense of the world I was about to launch myself on to. None of that mattered, only one goal mattered: getting as far away as humanely possible from this shithole town.
In early winter, post-secondary applications went out and I waited for my responses. In late March or early April, I received mail and I remember shaking with excitement; all the other envelopes I received had been thin: rejection letters as planned; but THIS envelope was heavy and I was so happy the University of Ottawa had accepted me to their institution. It was still winter in The North and September 1993 was still far away, but escape was so close I could taste it! Working at the pharmacy had allowed me to stockpile many supplies I would need in university, such as dish soap, body wash, hair colour, hairspray, bathroom cleaner, allergy medicine, etc. I had been collecting for 2 years and had been keeping my treasures in boxes in my bedroom closet and under my bed. I was overjoyed that I’d be leaving this house soon. My sister was excited to be heading to Germany for a one-year student exchange program. She would then have to return home to complete her last year of high school.
I had already told my parents that I refused to live in residence because I’d been living with 30+ people my entire life and I really truly just wanted to be alone. I looked forward to the day I would not hear people walking above me 24/7; I later started referring to the Residents as astronauts – that’s what the walking always sounded like: super heavy astronaut boots keeping everyone tethered to the 2nd floor of The House. I just wanted my own space to keep clean, to listen to music and, best of all, absence of screaming and name-calling. My dad went to yard sales on the weekend and collected mismatched plates, pots, pans, drapes for an apartment I did not have yet.
In May 1993, Jack and I headed to Ottawa to find an apartment. In my mind, I imagined a campus tour, exploring the area, finding an apartment and having the opportunity to familiarize myself with the surroundings. What did happen was we stayed in a motel overnight, Jack was too cheap to rent a room with two beds, and we ended up sleeping together in a double. I remember, even now, how weird I felt this was; I stayed dressed and I slept on top of the bed sheets. I did not sleep well that night, I had never slept with another adult male in my bed and I, for the life of me, could not turn off my brain – It remained alert and on guard until we got up in the morning. I assume if I had been provided with therapy I would have been a bit more normal or maybe this is appropriate behaviour? I have no idea.
It took 2 days for us to find an apartment we both agreed to; I ended up in a cute apartment, with a balcony off the bedroom, on the sixth floor of a 12 story building within walking distance of the University, the mall, and I only payed $675 per month all in. I rented the apartment starting on August 1, 1993 for a 12-month term; paid for in advance by post-dated cheques signed by Jack and me (the only way I was ever able to access any of my money was with his permission). We returned to The North and I remember feeling like the one floating on air. I called maman and arranged to move to her house on July 17, 1993, three weeks after graduation. I packed every single item I owned well in advance. I was so ready and disappointed that time seemed to stand still for those 21 days.
I was really looking forward to graduation because I had found a pattern for a dress I had fallen in love with and Maeve and Jack found a tailor to make it for me. I wanted it black and to me, the pattern felt like a mashup between Marilyn Monroe and Madonna – I was regularly told that I resembled Marilyn, Brigitte Bardot, and Lady Diana. I was going for a Material Girl look, but I hate pink so I wanted it all black.
I remember going for several fittings and the dress was never ‘there’ for me to try on. I didn’t really think twice about it, the dress was for my going away party and I’d get to wear it soon enough. My problem was my date. I needed a date my parents would approve of and hatched a plan with my high school bestie at the time: Ray would sit at her table with her family and my friend, Peter would attend my graduation, sit at our table and pretend to be my date. Fantastic, the plan for my last night of high school was coming along nicely. Jack had even agreed to rent a hotel room for my bestie and I. The entire graduating class had arranged to rent rooms at the local hotel to have a party into the wee hours of the night. Jack had even bought us a bottle of sparkling wine to celebrate and had put ice in the tub to keep it chilled.
I was excited to put my dress on, but first I went to the hairdresser and had her curl each little section in tight spirals. I have always been jealous of my sister’s curly hair and usually style it in curls for special events. When I got home and unwrapped my dress from the garment bag, I immediately notified them that I had someone else’s grad dress in the bag! That’s when I found out that THEY decided they didn’t like the dress pattern I chose or the colour. They changed the ENTIRE THING. I was so mad but there was nothing I could do; other than to focus my rage on my end goal: three weeks and I’m outta here. I hated the dress. White top, red bottom and stupid bows on each shoulder that stuck out making me look like the Flying Nun or something. I managed to focus on getting drunk instead. Peter left halfway thru the night, the entire table knew Ray was my boyfriend and had been for a few months (except for Maeve and Jack). I loved knowing that even my grandmother knew Maeve and Jack were unreasonable.
July 17, 1993 was one of the happiest days of my life. I had packed ALL my possessions into a truck my mom had rented after the graduation ceremony so in mid-July I was free to just get on the bus and head to Québec. Dad dropped me off at the station in town, we waved a tearful goodbye, I think my tears were more relief and excitement, as I don’t recall feeling sad at all. I remember feeling sad that Jack was crying. Once the bus reached the outskirts of town, I hopped off and Ray picked me up. He drove me to my mom’s in Québec because we had broken up shortly after graduation. My bestie had caught him in his car, rocking hard with another girl and just like that, I dumped his ass. It was perfect timing, I had anticipated dumping him anyway because I had zero interest in a long-term relationship. I wanted to go to bars and not worry about having a boyfriend. I wanted to meet a lead singer in a rock band.
After a few days at maman’s, I caught up on sleep and didn’t have to lift a finger because she told me I was finally on vacation. The plan was for maman to move me to Ottawa in mid-August. She also intended to buy everything I could possibly need for my new apartment. EVERYTHING from apple cider vinegar to an apartment size washer-dryer to Ziplock bags. Maman, my stepdad Denis, and I spent the week of August 9 cleaning, painting, and then finally moving my brand new furnishings into place. Denis even built closet organizers and surprised me with a kitten he had chosen for me while I was grocery shopping for staples and basic kitchen supplies. I loved that cat. I kissed maman and Denis good-bye on the 15th of August and spent the entire afternoon laying on my new couch listening to Stone Temple Pilots’ Core album. Monday I would find a job.
Just joining me? Start at the beginning:
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