While on the topic, I mentioned Ayn Rand and ‘The virtue of selfishness.’ “It’s one of my favourite books!” She’s also a fan and asks what I think of egoism. “I like it, but it doesn’t match up with my other views on life.” She didn’t think this matter and it worked for her. Stayed on the topic she said “Selfishness and capitalism makes sense. Look at the world around us, it’s ruled by physical laws. Look at the government and political systems, they’re dominated by these ideas, it’s unavoidable.” She went on, “They don’t conflict with my views on meditation or happiness either. They are different, so they require different considerations.” She stopped for affect and added, “Think about it.”

We ended up talking for the rest of the night; we talked about all sorts of topics. I learned a lot from her and was forced to think about what she said and what I believed. We got along well so before she left I asked, “Can I have some contact information?” She laughed and wrote down her email address.

The thing about Noel was that she contradicted many of the ideals that I held true; she stood and represented values that I did not yet understand. What got me most was that she forced me to rethink a lot of what I believed. If it wasn’t for my expensive jeans she wouldn’t have talked to me, but then expensive jeans are a frivols purchase. They represent extensive materialism, but that was what started the conversation. A conversation, like many others, that changed me and lead to obscure conclusions. It was all thanks to Noel and my jeans.

I asked, “Have you ever smoked marijuana? She said “No! Never will either, it’s bad!” I asked why and she said, “Because it’s against the law.” An interesting point, maybe that’s the only reason why herb is bad, a better question would have been, ‘why is marijuana against the law?’ Once we ask that question we will discover there are a lot of reasons why it’s against the law, however most are based on false premises and faulty assumptions. I argued with her for a while about the topic, trying to convince her otherwise, but it didn’t work. She was against it because of the law and that would never change.

The jeans came up in our conversation again, I said “I like the jeans, but would never buy them. They cost too much, but my dad bought these ones for me.” I told her about my father, at the time we didn’t talk much, I didn’t like him either. He was obsessed with possessing things and thought that was where happiness came from. After telling her this she said, “Aren’t you mature enough to see past that? People can get happiness from wherever they want, even obtaining and possessing toys. There isn’t just one way to be happy.”

Most of the people I asked agreed that being rich wasn’t great; most felt it was wrong to strive for such a thing. Maybe that’s because none of them are rich? She was different; smart, into philosophy and meditation. We agreed on most things but not this. She liked the posh life, going to expensive clubs and wearing expensive cloths. This really threw me off, she was one of the smartest, well rounded girls I’d ever met, but she was into all this superficial stuff; I didn’t know what to think.

She was beautiful; dark completion, a tan, it was summer after all, dark hair and eyes and dressed as though she was headed to a club. I’d never seen her before and she didn’t seem to know any of the other people either; she was sitting with her friend Sarah on the patio away from the table. I said, “Hello” and she responded quickly “Hi, I like your jeans!” Diesel does make great jeans, they are expensive but well worth it, fit well, looked great and last forever, and like anything expensive they hold a certain prestige. I was slightly annoyed by her initial comment, my first intuition was to say, ‘what difference does it matter what type of jeans I wear? They’re still just jeans.’ To my better judgment I decided against this. Which was an excellent idea, for I was about to have an insightful, life changing conversation.

Her name was Noel; she studied politics and philosophy at university. She planned on becoming a lawyer, based on our conversation I could see it happening; she was smart and exceedingly capable. She mentioned that she meditated regularly; she’d been to a workshop where everyone meditated all day for a week. She gave me additional information and suggested I check it out. She was into Vipassana meditation which focuses on the senses and insight. We talked about philosophy, she knew a lot, more than me, which isn’t something that happens too often. We discussed existentialism, which was great; it’s what I know most about anyways.

A trait that I noticed most was her ability to maintain eye contact. I usually look into the eyes of whomever I’m talking to, noticing that it isn’t too common; she on the other hand did it too. In fact, she kept so much eye contact that it made me uncomfortable, funny.

I’d gone to high school with Mike so we’d known each other since then; however I hadn’t seen him in almost 4 years. We pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, walking to the door, Ryan knocked on the door, and a few seconds later Mike answered and let us in. He lead us through the house and into the backyard; there was a group gathered around the monstrous green and glass patio table. I recognized a few of them; we’d gone to the same high school. Ryan was connected with everyone because they worked together. He grabbed a seat on one side of the table and I sat down at the end, in the only seat that was left.

Sitting quietly I didn’t have much to say, quite high and not ‘really’ knowing anyone made it harder to speak. I chilled out, catching the breeze, listening to the sounds of the outside world and the voices around me. Looking around, I noticed that there was an intriguing view from my seat.

We were all up on the raised patio, down below the rest of the backyard, which wasn’t large, and sat surrounded by a tall recently stained plywood fence. There were two large Japanese maples while the rest of the space was covered with bricks and cobblestone. I turned back towards the table where everyone was sitting. At that moment I heard a voice behind me say “Look Sarah! That guy is wearing Diesel jeans.” That guy was me, so I turned around.

THE PAST
It was the summer; I’d been taking summer courses so that I would graduate in September, and most weekends I’d go home to see my friends.  To get home I’d take the bus from downtown to the City, and then the Go-train would take me to my home town. It was Canada Day weekend so I headed home early Friday evening. Luckily this weekend my mother was out of town, so I had the house to myself.