Obfuscation Reward Stories

Okay, here is the first story reward for the contest winners.... late, but better that than never, right? I'll post the other one tomorrow.

Fierce, Beautiful & Strong

The first time I remember seeing the person who would become my best friend was when we were in junior high school. She used to like to wear this Greek Fisherman's hat over her long, curly-like-I-wanted-my-hair-to-be chestnut waves. She had on a ruby colored sweater, and just looked like an exotic, cool person. I didn't get to know her for a long time after that, really. The next year, though, we both went to high school and I would see her around here and there--I wasn't exactly stalking her, but she had a unique look and seemed interesting. My sophomore year, I took French classes for the first time and joined the French club. We had a day, somewhere around Hallowe'en, where we had to be "initiated"-- which meant wearing a goofy costume to school and performing silly acts whenever an older member of the club demanded. Our costume that year was to be a clown. I donned clown makeup, a fuzzy rainbow wig, striped pants, and a big white shirt. Another group that year also did clowns-- so there were a lot of us wandering around the halls contributing to the chaos of a high school day filled with jocks rolling pencils down the hall with their noses to "Keyettes" (i.e., cheerleaders) singing loudly whatever song was the cool thing of the time.

I was stopped by the girl who had worn the Greek fisherman's hat, and she asked me "was I being initiated for French club or Drama?" I figured she was a drama chick, so relieved, answered "French club." But my relief was short lived. She demanded, as an older member of the club, that I sing Frere Jaqcues. I think she made me do it while walking backwards down the hallway. That was the first time we ever really talked.

Then, Junior year, she was in my American History class. I got to know her sense of humor in class, where I sat behind the guy I had a crush on, who I swore looked like Simon LeBon and who I never got the courage to date. She sat behind me, in the back row, and she and her friends were funny, deadly so. She had a penchant at that time for wearing oversized lumberjack shirts and faded jeans with a hole ripped in the knee-- the shirts were plaid, often red. They looked like they belonged to a boyfriend (which I think I remember they did.) Our friendship grew when we both got jobs at the same K-Mart and one of us would drive the other to work. We bonded over an odd experience at the beach with an older guy named "Howard" who tried to date me (it seemed gross at the time and we mockingly called him Howard the Duck.)

I have been there when she has been having the worst yet moment of her life, providing bad liquor swiped from the pantry and 7-Up to wash it down, and drive her home later. She was there to drive me home, fiercely silent yet planning his ultimate doom, when the evil ex broke my heart and she drove, me sobbing in that way that comes from deep deep down inside your chest, and makes you hoarse. Later, she and another red-headed good friend drove to his dorm and put superglue and other things in his car, as partial repayment for his evil ways (it wasn't enough, really). When he demanded she pay for the damage, she defiantly chirped "I don't think I want to do that." I loved her, even then, in an awkward position, for that. Now I love her even more for it. Evil ex is a bad memory-- she is still wonderfully here.

There are tons of memories I could describe about our friendship, from my wedding and her drawing the little silver broom charm from the cake that was supposed to mean she would be an "old maid" to me being at her wedding telling a long toast and replacing that mean old charm with a much better one. She is one of the bravest people I know-- strong in convictions, fiercely loyal, but gentle when necessary and always kind.

When we hang up the phone nowadays, from several thousand miles away where grown-up lives have taken us, we always tell each other "I love you." It seems a little weird, when you think of it, for people who aren't related to each other, aren't dating, or whatever, to say this, but really, I do love her, and want her to know what an important part of my life she is. And, since she reads this blog, I'm fairly sure she's both scowling and smiling as she reads, thinking "What a big sap" but also happy to be busted for being a fabulous person.

One of these days soon, very soon, we will both be done with our endless years of college, and we'll spend a vacation wandering about calling each other Doctor. She promises to help me with my goal of, after said momentous event, being "drunk now for over two weeks" like in the Jimmy Buffet song, even though she hates Jimmy Buffet. This may happen in Key West. It may happen on a "girls-only" cruise of the Med. It may even happen in one of our backyards. But when it does, it won't just be the liquor talking when I tell her "I love you".