My life would suck without Kelly Clarkson. She has been around for a long time — eight seasons to be exact — and as a personal screaming-type of release from the real world, she has been amazing. But not as amazing as chocolate, because my life would really suck without chocolate. And I am not talking about that Hershey’s Kiss type of chocolate, I mean Lindt or better. I crave chocolate like I crave adventure — so I guess my life would suck without adventure, too, but that’s only fun when you are with friends. And if I was honest with myself, my life only would truly suck without my friends.
Significant others have not played a dominant role in my life up to this point, so my friends have been the objects of my affection. I cherish my relationships and adore my close friends, which is why I spent this past Valentine’s Day with them.
The night began with strawberry-peach-something cocktails and selected scenes from “Kill Bill: Vol. 1.” After the drinks were down and both Vernita Green (aka Copperhead) and O-Ren Ishii (aka Cottonmouth) were killed, the dancing began. With the lights off and the music blaring, I slowly drifted into the trance that I had not been in for two weeks — the trance of the night. When more drinks were poured and finished and cologne had been put on, confidence had been heightened and faces had been washed, we left. My fellow anarchists and I went to a local bar for the first time — the music was mediocre and there was not enough room to dance. Our time spent there was short and uneventful to say the least, but I did leave with one memento, a key that I will surely need at some later, predetermined time.
This is when the real fun of the night began.
We drove back to 14th Street in an attempt to find another party, but wound up driving in a circle a couple of times, which was right about the time we all realized that we did not want to go to another party. We just wanted to dance. So we drove around for a while with no destination in mind, just singing along to The Killers. Suddenly, I got nostalgic for high school — I do every time I hear “Somebody Told Me” or “Mr. Brightside,” because I remember shopping in Hollister with the music blasting in my ears and the lights very dim and thinking to myself, much as I do now, that if I get the clothes I want then maybe I’ll be happy. So we drove.
After dropping two friends off, everyone left in the vehicle was in agreement that whatever we did, we needed to get out of Charlottesville. Visiting a cow farm was on the agenda and without obligations early in the morning, we took to the night and didn’t look back.
I woke up an hour later at a gas station in Zion’s Crossroads. I stumbled out of the car and felt like I had been sleeping for days. We stayed in the gas station for about 30 minutes, buying snacks, talking to the cashiers and having them heat up Cup of Noodles — nice women they were. One asked me where we were from — Charlottesville or Richmond — and I responded, “Where are we?” Another asked why we were out at 3 a.m. and when the cow farm was brought up, surprisingly, we were met with nonjudgmental eyes and a suggestion of directions we could follow.
The journey continued to Fluvanna County and beyond, where we actually did find a cow farm. As we hopped a fence and took 10 pictures, the gravel road crunched under our heavy feet, and in the expanse, the starry sky barely lit our faces and the night was so silent that it sounded like ringing. We did not find any cows, but we did run into a couple of cow pies — fortunately, not literally.
Back into the car we went, and I fell asleep again and woke up outside of Bice. I crawled out of the car and into bed and woke up wondering which parts of the night were dreams and which were realities. That night was the most fun I have had at U.Va. in a long time, despite the fact that it was not at U.Va. Maybe that was the key all along: getting away from what we know. Spontaneity is a trait I admire. I look for it in people and want to have more of it myself.
I cannot wait for our next late-night road trip. Sometimes I fall so deeply in love with material things that I forget about the people around me. This past Saturday may have been primarily about couples and lovers, but I have never had as good a Valentine’s Day as I had last weekend. So I say thank you to Ms. Clarkson and thank you to chocolates, but my affection stays put in my friends — those that I trust, love and couldn’t live without.
Ian’s column runs biweekly Thursdays. He can be reached at i.smith@cavalierdaily.com.
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