Tuesday, June 23, 2009

...because weird stuff happens

Here I am. Back at it. I realized that I missed the blogging lifestyle: sitting in my pajamas with a hot cup of tea, deciding on how to best tell a story with the right amount of excitement mixed with a sensitivity to my mother's worrying tendencies.

For those who have spent any amount of time with me, you will know that I have the special gift of "extraordinary" - don't mistake this for me implying that I am extraordinary, but rather that I tend to attract the off center, the odd, the perplexing, the (well, let's just say it) crazy.

I couldn't possibly pick up where I left off two years ago, so I am going to need to start fresh - beginning with a little ditty that I like to call I've Just Seen A Face (not to be confused with a semi-popular tune by a relatively unknown British band)


My home, as of right now, is located mere steps away from a quaint path which ducks in and out of weeping willows and stony brooks. It really is lovely. My friend Rebecca and her husband David recently moved on the other side of this path and with the move came the promise that we would go for evening strolls together (ask my sister...apparently I don't go for "walks" I go for "strolls"). Last Thursday marked the first day we kept our word.

Part of the rules are that we meet half way between our houses - on a tiny bridge over the brook. I know, so romantic. But we are in different time periods, so we have to leave letters in a little mailbox to communicate with each other....wait, that could be wrong. Keanu, how did you get in here?

Ok, back on track.

I see Rebecca wandering towards the bridge and after getting a tour of her new house, we begin down the path.

The walk (I am calling it that because I feel we were going at a reasonably quick pace) was delightful, with our conversation never lagging (unlike our pace as we came up the hill - fine, I'm a slow walker). We were on the home stretch - out of the path and onto the sidewalk - when a woman walks past us. I don't remember seeing her come towards us, but then again, we were barely watching where we were going. I'm surprised we didn't ram right into her. She had on an interesting shirt with an unsusal design, but overall, very average looking. Not missing a beat, we kept walking.

Not more than 15 meters away, the woman passes us again - from the same direction.

This time she gives us a little grin that almost says, "You know you've seen me before."

Now at this point, I am telling a story that I must have been into because I barely noticed her until she passes us and Rebecca shoots me a worried look.

"Umm Trish, isn't that the same woman who JUST walked past us?" Rebecca whispers.

Now that she mentions it, yes, that is the same woman. Same kind of disheveled hair. Same interesting, but not trendy, shirt.

We both whip our heads around, expecting to see her back just steps away from us.

She is gone.

We scream.

We scan the area, trying to figure out where she went, but apart from a few cars parked beside us on the road, there was no where for her to go. I bend down, hoping to see feet as I peer underneath the cars, but no such luck (not that some crazy lady hiding behind a car wouldn't have been a little creepy).

Rebecca and I quicken our pace, desperately trying to think of explainations. Did she run around the block? No, there was no way. Does she have a twin? But how did she disappear then?

I realize that it is terribly cliche to have a eerie encounter conclude with a disappearance, but I am telling it as it was. Who was this ghostly woman passing us on the street in clear light? (my friend Chelsea describes my favourite part of day this way. Clear light is the time of day where you can see everything but the sun is no longer in the sky. It is like walking into a bright room but you can't find the source so there are no shadows).

To take our minds off of it, we watched a little So You Think You Can Dance....always soothing.

The next day, I kept expecting to see this woman. I have a lot of time alone at work, cleaning rooms and thought about the situation, deciding that if I saw this woman again, I would confront her.

If she crosses my path again, I will let you know.