A Day with Clay

I’ve been on a long hiatus from this blog since, well…around last Valentine’s Day. Only ONE thing, or rather one PERSON could bring me back: Clay Aiken.

Let me explain.

When I was a little girl, I loved Clay Aiken. I’d sprint from the school bus to my front door every afternoon, get inside, plop myself in front of the computer, and open an email draft. *cracks knuckles, cracks neck* let’s begin.

To: Clay Aiken

CC: Clay Aiken

BCC: Clay Aiken?

(Keep in mind I had no clue how to even use email at the time.)

No worries, this will definitely get to him.

What should I tell Clay Aiken today? I wondered, thinking through my whole day down to every conversation had.

Should I tell him about my new gel pens?

Will he care about the new Beanie Baby my grandma got for me?

I should definitely tell him about what I learned in class today.

I typed, with one finger, a listicle of random things I thought Clay Aiken should probably know about my day, every day…before listicles were even cool (or a thing).

But no matter what specifics I wrote that day, I always ended it the same way:

Can we get ice cream?

No response.

One December 1st,  2000-something (one day after CLAY’S birthday),while listening to his album “Merry Christmas with Love,” I decided to draft my final email to Clay Aiken, with Clay Aiken both CC’d and BCC’d (for good measure):

Today is my birthday. Can we get ice cream?

From there on out I spent my time on the computer not emailing Clay Aiken, but playing Sims instead, or Googling pictures of “pretty flowers” when my brother asked to use the computer. GOD, CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY JOEY?

It’s disappointing that he didn’t respond. But in fairness, it turns out you need to send emails to an email address and not just the person’s first and last name. Who knew? Not me.

The other day I decided to give it another shot. Why not? I’m a damn adult now so this time, I took to Twitter:

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Still, no response. But what if he did respond? What would we do? Oh my word, think of the possibilities!

How would I spend my day with Clay Aiken? American Idol’s Number 1 Number 2, the politician, TV personality, the activist, and voice of an angel we all know today.

Naturally, we’d get ice cream.

BUT FIRST:

Our day would start at 12pm, sharp. Just late enough to sleep in and be well-rested for the day ahead, while still giving us enough time to seize the afternoon and evening.

We lunch. We maybe go back and forth about where to eat, considering street trucks and cafes we walk by. We decide on salads, dressing on the side. #chic. Our orders come. They’re good, but I’m questioning my choice of protein. Was chicken a bad choice? Clay reassures me. We laugh.

We go window shopping, thinking about gifts for loved ones while gazing into the beautifully decorated shops. In Rockefeller Center, we stare up at the giant tree. We take a pic. I set it as my Twitter avatar.

Should we ice skate? I tell Clay I’m not very good, but he tells me “c’mon! I won’t let you fall.”

He lies. I fall. I chip a tooth on the back of his blade on my way down. I cry a little bit because it was awkward, obviously. I mean, I just chipped my tooth on Clay Aiken’s ice skate! HELLO!! EMBARRASSING!!! But we laugh. We take a new picture with big smiles, displaying my broken front tooth. You can kind of tell I was crying in the pic, but I set it as my new, NEW Twitter Avatar anyway. Again, LAUGHTER ENSUES.

We see the Rockette’s later that night. It’s Christmas time, dammit! Whenever I even HEAR the Radio City Christmas Spectacular jingle, I imagine Clay singing it! HOW CAN YOU NOT? Clay, can you please do a cover? The World needs to hear your rendition.

I’ve never even seen the Rockette’s before so I can’t even guess how that part would go. Would we love it? I bet it’s magical. Are there parts to sing along? I want to sing along with Clay Aiken.

After the show, we talk a little bit about his UNICEF ambassadorship, his run for Congress, North Carolina in general, whether or not he knows Kelly Clarkson, what size Simon Cowell’s t-shirts are, his album Measure of a Man, and our favorite animals.

Finally, we get ice cream. I get mint chocolate chip. He gets butter pecan or something like that; he seems like a butter pecan guy, doesn’t he?

After our long conversation about how I KNEW he would be a butter pecan guy, the night ends just how I always imagined: a high-five.

Now back to reality.

It’s got to be over 12 years since I sent my last email to Clay Aiken on that December 1st.

So today, I write this blog post (Merry Christmas with Love playing in the background) and I ask one FINAL time, hoping the internet is on my side:

Dear Clay,

It’s my birthday. Can we get ice cream?

Victoria, Blog On Fleek

 

 

 

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One comment

  1. I’ve had a similar experience like yours a couple of years ago, where I was searching for a high school love that I had not seen for more than 10 years. But that magical kiss, that one night, made me convinced she was the one for me. And I have romanticised this for all these years, only to meet her one day, get together for a couple of months and realize reality was nothing like my fantasy.

    I hope your experience will be different though 🙂

    Like

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