We're not making fudge.

Dear Allison,

I remember the first time I saw you after I moved to St. John’s. It was almost two years ago, the weekend before classes started. I was at Wal-Mart to buy lots of my favourite pens and loose-leaf in preparation for my very first post-secondary class.

I saw you near the electronics section with your mom. I turned to my Mom and said “that was my friend Allison from music camp. Weird, I haven’t seen her in two years.” You didn’t notice me.

My very first Political Science class happened that Tuesday at three o’clock in the afternoon. I sat by myself.

You came in. You sat on the other side of the room.

I was early, like I had been for all my classes. I waited patiently and debated going over and talking to you.

But I didn’t have to; you came over and sat next to me. “I thought that was Sarah Smith from music camp over here” you said to me.

It was me!

We chatted. You told me you were trying to get into music school and had decided to forego it for a Political Science degree. I told you I had discarded my dream of a life of music as well and was doing general studies.

We bonded.

Then Marland came in and thus began my life with him. By the end of that semester I knew I would have to do a Political Science degree as well. He made me want to immerse my life in opinion research and political scandals.

Sometimes I wonder, Allison, how much of a role you played in my becoming a political scientist.

Would I have crushed on Marland’s black tweed coat and sexy blue eyes as much if you hadn’t had been there to giggle with me? Would wedge issues, Diefenbaker and minority governments make any sense without you? How many messages have you received over the past two years with a screaming “ALLISONNN” followed up by one political inquiry or another?

In light of our very first collaborative Political Science presentation tomorrow, I thought I would write this and say: thank you for not killing me, Allison. A lesser person would have surely blocked and deleted me long ago. I promise to thank you in my inevitable politics related books as well.

WE’RE GOING TO ROCK TOMORROW, FUDGE OR NO FUDGE.

Yours in political (and Marland) love,
Sarah :)