Friday, April 28, 2006

Remote Controlled Expectations

There's a great scene from the movie Singles where Kyra Sedgwick's character gives her garage door opener to this guy she's fallen for, who not surprisingly, ends up being a complete dick and she therefore loses said garage door opener (which of course symbolizes a plethora of sentiments much greater than the worthless piece of plastic itself). As she purchases yet another replacement to fill the remote shaped hole in her heart, she swears aloud that she'll never lose it again.

I lost my garage door opener not long ago. Off it went. I had a feeling it wasn't coming back. I didn't cry over the sad-looking little box that left my life that day, but over the hope that that little button holds each time it is pushed. No matter how tough any man or woman might pretend to be, the truth remains, no one really wants to be alone. The extra remote somehow represents the extra space in your life, not just in your garage.

As some things never change, I still somehow end up at Home Depot just about every other day. I found myself perusing that section a few times. Get yourself a new one and just don't ever lose it again. Then I thought, that's no way to be. It would be a pretty sad existence to never take risks just because of one, or two, or...ten bad experiences. But, chances to be taken or not, I still left the store without my Liftrex Super replacement.

I came home today and picked up my mail and inside a padded envelope I saw an object whose color could only be described as garage-door-opener gray. Out of the envelope, it fell into my hand and for a moment I was sad to see there was no note. Not even a scribble to say something like, "Hi, not long ago I used to kiss you a hundred times a day and now we don't even speak, how are you?"

But even so, I had the hope back in my hands. What's so awesome about this though, is I will forever attribute the loss of that stupid fucking remote to what finally inspired me to do things I'd been wanting to do for years. Things I kept saying I'd do next week or next month and then turned into years, without accomplishment. This August, I will travel to another country. By myself. And this Wednesday, I begin my lessons with my Spanish tutor. FINALLY. And so I thank you, former apple of my eye, for saying all those sweet things and for every one of those kisses...and then for being a giant asshole to me. You have inspired and motivated me more than I ever would have imagined. And getting my remote back is a reminder that, although at times it may seem like it, hope is not lost. Perhaps misused and mislaid and misjudged sometimes, but definitely not lost.