For those familiar with Zooey Deschanel's half-hour television comedy New Girl, you'll understand the Nick Miller reference this blog will be about, and for those who are not familiar, I will do my best to explain. If you told the characters in Season 1 how Nick Miller would be now in Season 3, they wouldn't have believed you, and neither would he. Season 1 introduced us to a thirty-year-old lazy, underachiever who was working as a bar tender after dropping out of Law School - he was a mess in decisions and in hygiene, but a good man with good intentions. By Season 3, however, the writers threw us a whirlwind character twist: Nick Miller had finished college and passed his bar exam, but chose to be a bar tender - all this time, the audience believed he didn't become a lawyer because he couldn't, but in reality he could but didn't want to. Despite his roommates previously stating they worried that Nick "won't make it in general", he has found happiness and not as a byproduct of eventuality but as a byproduct of choice, his choice.
Equally, if you had said to me in my Season 1, three years ago, that I'd be here with an active YouTube channel, with productivity I can physically see, and feeling happier and prouder of myself than I've ever been, I might not have believed you. And yet, here I am.
I had been feeling quite nostalgic lately, and I felt it appropriate to talk about that in this sort of "month in review" blog post. Some of that nostalgia I channeled in this week's video where I go though my Memory Box and regale you with sentimental/interesting/cringe-worthy stories from my past, which you can see here:
What I also found in that box that I did not mention in the video were my University rejection letters. I remember the day I got those letters in the mail, I thought that that was the end of the world, the end of all things, and I would be in ruins. But when I looked at them again, three years later, it may surprise you to hear that my first reaction was not sadness or regret, it was wonder. I was in wonder that once upon a time I thought these letters had destroyed every chance I had to be who I wanted to be, when really that was ridiculous because it hadn't. I'm not trying to downplay the severity of what those letters meant, no, it was devastating, the idea of it still is, but what I understand now is that it didn't mean that I was unintelligent, or incapable, or a failure, or that I had no other chances, it meant that at that specific moment in time that path was not the right one for me whether it was my fault or not. I've said to a friend before that "time dulls old feelings", but not because they become less important but because you move on, you grow, you change.
I found a kindred spirit in Nick Miller, maybe not so much in the sense that I do actually wash my towel and my sheets, and I'm not stubborn enough not to call a plumber when proper plumbing things need doing, but in life and fears, we were almost entirely the same. I made a bond and adopted the thought: if Nick Miller is okay with being a mess, then I can be too. An empathy for fiction, if you will, which is conveniently what I talked about in last week's video, which you can watch here:
But what New Girl did this season is reveal to us that Nick Miller is in fact not a complete mess, not anymore or maybe he never was, and I realized that I wasn't a complete mess either. I may not have figured it all out but seeing what I've accomplished and where I am now after a month, it puts into perspective the change I've made in the span of three seasons of New Girl - I moved on, I grew, and I'm happy.
So maybe I don't need to be Nick Miller anymore, maybe I no longer need the comedic parallels to comfort and assure myself, because both Nick Miller and I are going to be okay. I guess I'm hesitant to let go of the phrase, "I am Nick Miller", one because it's funny, and two because the plaid-wearing man-child with a distrust of fish and banks will forever hold a place in my heart, but I have to make sure I don't judge my successes and failures on the basis of a person who isn't real, who isn't me. Nick Miller in all his social ineptitude can be my spirit animal, but in entirety, I am Chantille Millena (I will now allot a second or two to note our similar surnames, Miller & Millena, and my absolute lack of a love like Jessica Day, which gives the fictional man a one-up on me, but at least I can choose to poop if I want/have to, not because some overlords wrote that I did. Privacy, at least I have that). I will have many more seasons ahead of me, even if New Girl does not - although I sincerely hope they never ever get cancelled. Ever.
If you haven't watched New Girl, I highly recommend it. It's on, coincidentally, every TUESDAY on FOX or CityTV, or I'm sure you can find it somewhere on the internet - you're all savvy kids. It is hilarious, every character is loveable and quotable, and the stories have a lot of heart.
I hope you all have had a fantastic couple of weeks! It's still cold everywhere, I still haven't won a car from Tim Horton's Roll-Up The Rim, but I have attempted to sort out the shame of clothes and miscellaneous things I keep hidden in my closet - attempted, being the key word.
Peace out 'til Tuesday, yo!
(^please forgive me)
~ Chantille ~
