Unintentionally, I stayed up late last night reading Interview With a Vampire. This is a book I’ve always meant to read and I’m proud to have finally made the time for it… though I don’t really have the time for it. Upon realizing it was 11:45, I shut out my light and attempted to tuck myself in. sigh. The mind can be a funny thing. I don’t know what led me to it, but I began to think about Michael, an eccentric male ballerina-looking type, heavy into sociology and theatre, who I barely got to know in my second year of university. I was thinking about my upcoming birthday and daydreamed myself into a fantasy of being a famous actress interviewed by Barbara Walters. She asked me “What has been you most memorable birthday gift?”

Michael.

At the time of my20th birthday, I knew him only from French class and quick, yet intriguing conversations had while walking down the hall together on the way to our next, different classes. I was bummed out by this birthday, not because I dislike aging, I don’t, it’s natural and unavoidable, but because my boyfriend at the time had all but forgotten it. Sure, he acknowledged it with a “Happy Birthday” and very eagerly joined my family for a free meal that he gorged himself on, but that was it. He didn’t do anything for me. I was trying to decide if it was worth mentioning my hurt to him and if it made him an ass or if I was being too superficial and materialistic.

I had skipped my class after French and gone up the computer labs in the library to check my email and was on my way back to HUB to meet Matty Matterton for lunch. In that grand hall where they have portraits of old dudes lining the walls, was Michael walking towards me holding what was obvious to be a flower wrapped in paper. I jokingly said to him, “Ooooh Michael! You shouldn’t have!” he smiled, extended his arm and said, “Happy Birthday. I’m sorry it’s late.” Laughing, I said, “Ya right! Who’s it for?” He insisted it was for me and tears stung at my eyes. I took it, hugged him, looked at him, mouthed a thank you and hugged him again. He said, “I’ll see you later” and I went on my way grinning like a lovesick fool.

Michael made my day. Hell, Michael made my year! Thing is, there can be no way he had any idea of what was going on in my life. It surprised me to even know he knew my Birthday had passed. I carried a thank you note in my pocket for the next 2 weeks to give to him but he didn’t show up for French class, being the chronic skipper he is. He was there to write the final but I was late for it. Entering the class no eye contact was made as he had already dived headfirst into the exam. He left before I’d finished and I haven’t run across him since.

Last night, I was thinking about all of this and what a shame it was I had never thanked him. For the life of me I couldn’t remember his last name. Big deal, right? Well, a normal sane person who realizes she had a big day the next day full of fun fun note taking and hard questions from instructors would put it out of her mind and focus on getting some sleep… but I couldn’t! Plus, I’m not exactly sane.

I lie there, repeating to myself, “Michael” trying to trigger my memory. When I can't get his name, I get up and look through my old journals searching for a mention of him… I never wrote the moment down until now. Instead I get full into reading about the ex and mine’s messy breakup. Not good. I'm feeling pissed off at him all over again. Forcing myself to just give up, I get back into bed to sleep. Then, an idea. I go downstairs thinking maybe I wrote his name in a file on the computer… no such like. Instead I find something that triggers it and now, I know it! Success! Finally I will sleep!

I crawl into bed, happy with my detecting skills, annoyed I couldn’t let it go for now, and fall to sleep. I dream about vampires. I dream about Louis nearly sucking the life from Claudia and then the ghastly scene of Lestat’s last supper. I feel bad for him until I dream of his ghost… would a vampire have a ghost?…. coming after me.

I wake up. Think, ‘why hasn’t my alarm gone off? Must not be time.’ And go back to sleep.

I wake up, think, ‘this isn’t right.’ I look at my watch and it’s 5 to 7… I get picked up at 10 after.

Holy shit!

Waking up and flying down the stairs to throw my eyes in and make up on, not having the time to say, “Hey Dad” to my Dad all while trying to throw off the remnants of a nightmare is not the best way to start the day.

Getting ready, I hear Dad drive off and moments later the window shakes like something is batting against it, dying to get in. I throw up expecting Lestat to, even more eerie, find that nothing is there.

Wish I could say my weirdness ended at that point but no. On the radio in the car they are talking about memory tricks and more specifically, ways to remember someone’s name. Hmm. At school, I leave my backpack in the Newspaper office and only discover it half way to class. I’m nearly late for class, sit down, open up my coffee to find it to be only ¾ of the way full. Urggg. Still, I overcaffinate myself, drink water and then buy a coke. Good one.

Adding this all up, I can only come to one conclusion… sweet as Michael is, he is surely a vampire who was beckoned to my window by my thoughts last night.