Spring Break 2014: Best Friend Reunion IV

Muffy and I are halfway through out Fourth Annual Best Friend Reunion. I am so grateful for this person for a trillion reasons. But something I always especially cherish is that we were not seeking friends when we met. Halfway through college, content in relationships, satisfied with school. It would have been easy to let it all fly away, confetti post-parade. But here we are! I am sitting on her bed! The same bed I stayed in two years ago on my visit! The same bed we had girl talk on the night before she got married! If there is a spark of love, you must nourish it! It will not lead you astray! Love does not lead astray!

Skyline Drive National Park in Virginia. Yesterday.

There's no hiding for me.

I'm forced to deal with what I feel.

There is no distraction to mask what is real.

I could pull the steering wheel.

No Other Day!

Woke up to a text from Heart who reminded me "Today is August 23, 2012! There will be no other day quite like it."
There's something about the first day of school. Something good.

This is surreal. I flew in yesterday--met by a giant bear hug from Boulder and a dinner invite. I sit at his counter getting the gossip and watching him chop peppers for his eggplant parmesan, which is my favorite.

It's effortless to punch in my garage code, second nature to climb the stairs and drop my bags in the bedroom on the left. "I have grown," I decide, so I shove my bed into the opposite corner.

I bike to campus like I've done it hundreds of times. Because I have. Curly is on the corner of Mill & University. We embrace like we've done it two times because we have and his shoulder hits my jugular as I say, "It's good to see you" so I sound like a drunk chipmunk.

I TA. I see many a familiar face. I TA. I regress to 14 as Hill and I write summer Q & A on the backs of syllabi while the professor lectures during Sex & Violence. Class is out early, and I decide I'd like a smoothie. I run into Blue Eyes! Who hasn't eaten all day but can be persuaded to make a meal of froyo with me. I wonder what we look like--the chicadee with first day braid and the grey-haired family man, discussing Mormon youth over pomegranate non-ice cream.

First day of Senior Year 2005 with SVC & Hunny. So long ago!

So this is happening. Year two, here we go.

The Rainbow Lanyard

Today's love letter goes to my friend Clara. I like to think of my dearest friends as strands on a summer camp lanyard. My sister used to make those. She made one that was ten colors wide in rainbow order, twisting around itself. I coveted that lanyard SO BAD. I WANTED THAT AMAZING TECHNICOLOR CHUNK OF PLASTIC STRING!

Alas, she did not give it to me. Now, I thank her, for preventing me from looking like the world's youngest lesbian. No doubt I would have gotten it stuck in my bowl cut or accidentally stepped on it with the Timberlands I wore throughout first and second grade.

So I see my friends as those colors, getting braided in and out...sometimes on the outside, sometimes tightly wound in. For example, George was one of my best friends as we inched towards graduation, then we disappeared, then we had one isolated and wonderful Chicago night full of sneaking into hotel saunas and vegan quesidillas a couple years ago. Last December for about two weeks we were suddenly obsessed with each other, but then school started, and then it's just sort of been a while. I'm not sad. It all comes back.

ANYWAY, wow, I'm getting long-winded. So recently, Clara has woven back into my life. I'm not sure what causes this...besides some subconscious similarities in life positions. Or because two weeks ago I made her admit that I officially have the title "Clara's best friend from high school." The point is that lately it's not strange for me to know what she's eating today, what projects she's working on when two years ago I didn't even know where she worked. When I realize this stuff I feel infinitely surrounded by all the people I have ever known--always with me.



What I like most about rivers is you can't step in the same river twice. The water's always changing, always flowing.