Friendship

Friendship is a curious social arrangement. We put hours of time and infinite amounts of ourselves into our friends. We cultivate relationships with other humans for what? For our own egos? For self respect? For another human that we can connect with? Friendship is something that as humans we need. We need connection. We need another person that we can see ourselves in.
I have been slowly remaking a connection with my best friend from high school. We were extremely close until I became a prudish stay at home girl and her a drunk socialite. After months apart we are beginning to reconnect. In these months we have both grown, hopefully towards the women we want to be. It is amazing to see and talk to someone who knows you so well, who knows you on the deeper levels. She knows almost all of my dirty secrets, and those that she doesn't know yet I'm sure will make themselves know soon. She is a rare breed of human. Someone that is so similar to me yet so different.
At times she is who I want to be, at others I am her mother keeping her on the line. Together we are unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with. Combined we are the ultimate woman. Maybe this is what every woman is looking for- their other half, their female soul mate. At times we laugh until we cannot breath, recalling old stories. The night we spent dressed to the nines for prom freshman year on my porch pretending to smoke from fake cigarettes. We both started to bring up that memory at the exact same moment. That time she and our friend Bruce couldn't spend another minute watching a movie at our Saturday night dance party and snuck into my bedroom where they dressed Bruce in drag, I came into my once clean and tidy room to find Bruce in full drag, jumping on my canaopy bed and Caitlin running around throwing coffetti like it was going out of style.
Those times were what made us, brought us together. We are a wonderful duo because of our past. because of who we are together. Reconnecting is like coming home, like being my full and best self. At times it is awkward, we have lost a lot of the small talk in the past year of independence. However I can feel our greatness looming in the future. If only we can overcome our fierce independent selves and agree to become our unstoppable duo once more. We lose a little bit of ourselves into each other, but in the other we are far greater, more powerful and we are never forgotten. We live on through another person. What more can we ask for? I think that the whole human drama, our goal in this brief lifetime is to leave a mark, a memory that can be carried on. We all do it differently, some through other people, some through physical ways. But whatever way we do it we try to make our mark on this world. Prove that we are not insugnificant, that we mattered. That the world is what it is because we lived, because we breathed, because we were once here.

Foggy Night

Tonight I was driving home through a beautifully thick fog. It seemed to have everything in its grip. As I went down the road it slowly revealed a veiled landscape. Things were altered, like a disturbingly familiar dream. I felt like someone was with me, sitting in my passenger seat instead of my brown leather backpack. Without being conscious of it my thoughts turned to whispers and escaped my lips.

I was talking to my friend KC. My words started out as regrets. Regrets of his short life, regrets of our lost time together, and regrets of all that he would never do. As the mist formed on my face into miniature rivers I remembered the good times we had sitting on the trunk of my car and gazing at the stars. Talking about our hopes, fears and belief in the future. The words spilled out of me like shooting stars, filling the car with their blinding brilliance.

As I drove home tonight I had a conversation with a friend. My best friend who died, cut short of a physical life. But he was there, with me in my car. I felt him, he was thick like the fog and just as intangible. He was one of those people that you cannot forget. His smile was brilliant and his laugh was infectious. KC was like the sun. So bright and vivacious that you couldn't hold on to it for long. You were simply blessed  to get whatever time you could with him. Like the sun he had his own rhythm and rules that we could not control. But like the sun KC is still there, even when we cannot see him.

Techno Freak

Soooo...
I am NOT computer savy. Like really not. I have spent the last two hours trying to figure out how to get the pictures and video off my cell phone to my computer. For your information it is impossible. Apparently the software does not match up and despite the three new programs that I downloaded it will NOT work. I am 21 this stuff is suppose to be easy, this is my generation and my technology.
I wonder if I am a freak. The one lone person of my age that does not understand how to use a computer. For goodness sakes my mom is far better with a computer than I am!
It is a shame, I have these wonderful pictures and videos of my friend KC who has now passed to the spirit world and I cannot save them onto my computer. He was such a wonderful, vivacious person and all I have left are dimming memories and silly videos. I lost some of them when my previous phone died but luckily my old friend Caitlin had many of them saved on her phone. I don't want to lose them again or the ability to hear his voice.
All I want is to post a picture of him on this blog. To let the world see how fabulous he was, but I am too dim and therefore unable show you.
KC was a wonderful person and one of my dearest friends. I miss the time we lost, the wonderful life that he would have lead. Maybe later when I stop crying I will be able to tell you about him in better detail. But for now I will be lamenting my terrible computer skills.

Walking Away

There is a sad lesson to be learned while you grow older- growing apart. We grow apart from our toys, childhood dreams, and friends. While it is helpful and necessary for our personal growth it can often be an enormous emotional strain.
When my family moved to Maine I was fifteen with unruly curls and no fashion sense. I was a freshman in high school and I didn't know a soul in the whole state. The first day of school I had a math class where I met a ridiculously short, freckled redhead with the most perfect nose and infectious laughter. Her name was Caitlin and we soon became best friends. That first day of school was her birthday and for the past seven years we have always referred to it as our "anniversary". We have been close no matter the physical difference of our locations and come back together like two pieces of a whole.
I recently moved back to Maine from Asheville, North Carolina. We talked constantly while I was away and we ecstatic over our reunion. I arrived home around midnight to a lovely receiving party of my mother and all of the dogs. The next morning, not twelve hours later I was awoken by Caitlin bringing me a coolata and loads of gossip. It was wonderful but with a slight sour tint. Something had changed.
My best friend from the past seven years was no longer who I needed. A part of me would love to say that she was the one who did all of the changing but that would be a lie. She was who she always would be, fun, wild, and intensely high spirited. I cannot tell you how I myself have changed. I feel the exact same way but our old drives, long chats, and favorite activities hold no desire for me. When I am around her she makes me feel old. Like and elderly aunt or cousin who kindly puts up with your nonsense, patiently waiting for you to grow out of it.
Maybe this is growing up. Maybe this is me walking away, towards my new life. Maybe is all I can say, for tomorrow is a new day and no one can claim it. But it is difficult  to walk away from those glorious teen years, filled with frivolous nonsense that creates the ground you walk on, holds you like gravity to the planet. Growing up is a challenge but walking from someone you love is heartbreaking.

Spider Webs

My dreams are not always clear. I wake up in the morning to sleepy spiders scurrying away. Their webs tear so easily when I try to inspect them. It is a frustrating feeling, like trying to hold something that isn't there. It feels like there is a thick mist between me and all of the wonderful places and things that I did that night. It is so infuriating!
For a few hours every night I get to go to incredible places, see people that are gone or hopefully to come, and do things that I cannot do in this world. Dreams are magical but I definitely do not fully understand them. Why do they happen? Why we do the things that we do? Why do we see and say what we do?

Last night I had an interesting dream. It fluttered around me when I awoke but faded quickly. All day it would come in and leave me little hints, flickers and tastes of the sweet dream that it was. While I was driving home it hit me, my dream came back in beautiful clarity, I was in a shop, somewhat like a head shop where a woman was teaching people how to levitate a ball. It was a small, worn, red ball that I held in the palm of my hand. She told me to concentrate on the ball, picture it in the air, ask it to go up and it would. Amazingly it did! It was hard, I really had to concentrate to make it work. It would hover a few inches above my hand then fall. But I did get it to go about six feet above my head, it would start to fall but if I worked hard enough it would fly gracefully in the air. The feelings and sights were so real that it is hard to see it as only a dream. It was so empowering and frustrating! Once I had spent a good bit of time with the ball the woman asked me if I could make myself levitate. I sat cross-legged on the floor and tried with all of my might. It was so hard that it was almost painful. I could make myself fly up but it took all of my concentration and energy. I was elated in my dream. It felt just like real life, but it was so wonderful!
There are several things that are memorable about this dream. One- I do not remember ever flying in any of my dreams. Two- the astonishing reality of it. Three- the effort that it took to do it. In most of my dreams things happen easily despite the situation. The problem is that they do not always come back so easily.
I am so glad that the mist dissipated and I could clearly see my ticklish dream. I was able to hold it for a moment longer, which really is all that I can ask for.

Big Kids Read

I woke up this morning and had a flash back to fourth grade. Mrs. Ryan was my fourth grade teacher and she changed my life.

When I was little I had a hearing problem. I honestly don't remember much about it other than I had to have surgery and wear ear plugs whenever I was in water. No one even noticed it until I was far behind in reading. I was REALLY good at reading lips, but that didn't help me when it came time for reading the printed word.
I had a wonderful tutor named Miss Helen but I HATED reading. My parents tried everything under the sun. They bribed me, threatened and begged but no matter what they did nothing worked. My future looked bleak as I started fourth grade and was still reading books that read "Watch Sam chase his ball. He loves chasing his ball."

Mrs. Ryan changed my life on the first day of class. She sat us down and told us all that "Big kids read. Big kids always have a book with them and they read everywhere. They read in the car, in the bath, at school and wherever they can. You are in fourth grade now, you are big kids and you will read all the time in my class and out of it." That simple little speech altered my life.

 When I got home from school that day I dove into the bookshelves in my parents office and dug out The Little House on The Prairie series that some loving family member had given me a few years before. That same night I started reading and never stopped.

Thanks to Mrs. Ryan I always have a least one book in my car, another in my bag and there is usually one hidden under my pillows. I read in the bath, on breaks at work, and whenever I can snag a minute for it. Saying that I love to read is a massive understatement. Reading has enriched my life in such a beautiful way, I am so grateful to all of the people who helped push my stubborn butt to read. Thank you!

My Best Friend

I love my Mom. She is amazing, beautiful, loving and a fun person to be around. She is the kind of person that I want to be when I grow up. But I have to admit that I take her for granted on a daily basis. I don't often give her the credit that she deserves.
I owe my mother for so much. The list is far to long to ever write down. But there are a few essentials that I must say. She made me. That alone deserves eternal gratitude. But she also gave me a wonderful home, lots of love and has nurtured all of my dreams. She is my best friend and confidant.
The other day I was talking to a co-worker who was telling me that her mother is going through a rough time and may have to move in with her. She was plotting ways to keep her out of her home and complaining about what a pain it would be if she moved in. She was also saying how she didn't want to deal with her mothers baggage. This made me terribly sad. It got me thinking about my relationship with my mom and what I would do for her. She has always been my rock and guiding light but what if one day she needs me? What could I do to help her? Could she ever need too much? The answer is no. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for her. Even if I was living under a bridge in a cardboard box she could live with me and have the only blanket.
 I am so blessed to have my mother, this wonderful vivacious woman who loves me. I would do anything for her because I know that she has already done everything for me. Thank you Mom, for everything you've done. I love you.