ode to valerie

my launch player just tuned into r.e.m's everybody hurts. and i'm magically whisked away to my freshman year of college.

in august of '98, i moved into the lakeshore dorms at the uw with a beautiful, tall, long-haired blonde hippie girl named val who always smelled a little of both sweat and indian food. she refused to shave her legs or her armpits, wore "natural" deoderant, hung up flyers featuring tortured animals to help her stick to her vegan habits, drank wine from big coffee mugs, and kept piles of papers all over our floor.

i loved val.

down the hall, my new friend laura lived with a very different kind of girl. i can't remember the girl's name now, except that she obsessed over her looks constantly, had a wardrobe that barely fit in her room let alone her closet, and wouldn't eat anything that might add an extra calorie or two to her already slim intake. she always smelled good, always glistened (never sweated), and kept her room immaculately clean.

i loved val.

sure, there were times when i couldn't stand coming home to the mess spread all over our rust-color carpeted floor (it was not my color of choice), when the lingering smell of afghani food left in the refrigerator for a couple of weeks absorbed into my day-old macaroni and cheese, when i just wanted her to be normal like everyone else. but the things i learned from val - to love my body (she used to rub her tummy and tell me sit-ups would only cut down on the necessary fat required to keep my ovaries warm), to wear what i like (and embrace or ignore trends depending on what i liked), to always think people are more complex and more similar than they first appear.

val liked music by poi dog pondering (i am still grateful she introduced me to them), phish, and over the rhine (that was the only band we both came to the uw agreeing on, so we played their good dog, bad dog album over and over and over again all year long). before i sold half my cd collection (an overzealous move i made to rid myself of material things ... and yes, i kind of regret it now. i mean, i sold all my ani and counting crows and oasis, and kept dc talk and raze. oh, sad, sad), i had some pretty pop-y stuff - jock jams, r.e.m., stuff that everyone liked ... which kind of embarrassed me. i didn't feel it was cool or indie enough for val, so i rarely listened to it.

and then one spring day, i came home to an empty room and took the opportunity to put my r.e.m. disc in the stereo. val walked in, sat her stuff down, and started her homework. when we got around to "everybody hurts," i heard her sniff a bit and turned to see her silently crying. she and her boyfriend tim were on the outs again, she explained through her tears. i plopped myself down next to her on her bed and put my arm around her. and she cried harder. and then asked me to put "everybody hurts" on repeat, said her mom used to play this song for her when she had had trouble with tim in the past while they were in high school. and then she just kept crying.

i guess i think about that moment as a time i felt val's lessons to me - that i should just be myself and like what i like regardless of what anyone else thinks - were tangible. and that she really believed it. val didn't own any r.e.m. and yes, it was too popular for her taste. but for one moment, me liking something without fear brought comfort to her. and she got to feel safe. and i got to feel safe. when it all boiled down, my likes and her likes could be totally dissimilar but we cared for each other. because above all that other stuff was our appreciation for and love of each other.

i love val. i love being reminded of her. that's a good way to start the day.