The Keersten to my Carmen
I'm reading this book by Rainbow Rowell called Attachments and it's about this guy who works at a newspaper and monitors the journalists' emails and through the process of monitoring email, he inadvertently falls in love with a film critic who works there because he thinks she's charming and nice and funny, and he accidentally learns (by reading her email...) that she finds him physically attractive and that she refers to him as "My Cute Guy" (McG for short) whenever she talks about him to her bestie, and, as I'm reading this novel, I'm seeing so much of my relationship with Nicole on paper. Because the film critic, Beth, and her best friend, Jennifer, are loyal to one another and are candid and loving and respectful, and it's making me appreciate my friendship with my own best friend all the more. It's making me giggle at the ridiculous names we would give to the cute boys we'd regularly see (but never had the guts to actually talk to...), and it's making me remember all those times she's been the first one I reached out to during a crisis and vice versa. It's making me realize how many experiences we've shared.
And while I find about four aspects of the book to be highly problematic, the friendship between Beth and Jennifer makes me smile because their interactions are similar to the interactions I have with Nicole. How many nonsensical conversations have we had in our 20 plus years of friendship? How many guys have we liked from afar in quiet creepiness?
I met with her for dinner on Tuesday. It was just us two at our very own "Cheers", Next Act Pub. This is the place where not everyone will know your name, but you're sure to see at least a familiar face or two. Our group usually meanders on over to this place on nights when everywhere else is too full or simply too much. All of us feel really comfortable there and we're guaranteed to spot at least one familiar face per visit -- usually it's Mark (a friend of Wyatt and Janis), but we've bumped into other acquaintances in the past. So usually when Nix and I meet for dinner (usually on a Tuesday), we find ourselves at Next Act Pub.
So anyway, Nicole and I were dining out and she's sharing with me her dream of one day owning a bakery-slash-matchmaking service, and the two of us just start matching our single friends with other singles we know and it's fun and it's easy and it's routine. Our friendship is such a foundation of my life -- no, our lives, that most of the heavy work was built back when we were two ragamuffins enjoying recess. She's such a huge part of my life that it's scary for me to think that she would ever not be a part of it. I take for granted how much she knows about me, how long she's known me, how our lives are intertwined.
I remember how my time in Montreal was magical and lovely and perfect in my eyes, yet I made time to Skype with Nicole at least five times a week. Once, we even Skype'd for over seven hours--and we never even ran out of things to say! She's the kind of friend who makes your day that much brighter; she's the friend who you want to share in your adventures. So many times when I think back on a ridiculous event or an epic night, Nicole was there, too.
It's not easy for me to open up to people. I feel narcissistic and egocentric and vulnerable and so silly whenever I share too much of myself with anyone, but it just happens with Nicole. I don't plan on telling her the things I do, but I can't shut up when we start talking. She's not judgmental and she always sees the best in people and in situations, and she's so unassuming. She can get me to smile when I'm at my saddest; can make me feel invincible when I'm ready to give up. She's my best friend. And I know that even if/when my dream of moving to Montreal becomes a reality, that she'll pay me a visit, Rylan (and their two adorable blond-haired, blue-eyed babies) in tow. And I adore Char, Janis, Jenn, Tamara, and Melissa with my whole heart, but Nicole is the friend I'd hypothetically pick to be my maid of honour; she's the friend I'd hypothetically choose to be my first child's godmother; she's the friend I'd hope my hypothetical future partner would ask for help in the hypothetical case that he was going to ask me to marry him.
Cue: dreamy sigh.
She'll forever be the Doug to my Steve Butabi. The Prevail to my MadChild. The cream filling to my Oreo cookie. The person I trust most on this planet. And, not to brag or anything, but ours is the kind of friendship people write books on. I should know. I'm reading a book that's practically based on our friendship.
And while I find about four aspects of the book to be highly problematic, the friendship between Beth and Jennifer makes me smile because their interactions are similar to the interactions I have with Nicole. How many nonsensical conversations have we had in our 20 plus years of friendship? How many guys have we liked from afar in quiet creepiness?
I met with her for dinner on Tuesday. It was just us two at our very own "Cheers", Next Act Pub. This is the place where not everyone will know your name, but you're sure to see at least a familiar face or two. Our group usually meanders on over to this place on nights when everywhere else is too full or simply too much. All of us feel really comfortable there and we're guaranteed to spot at least one familiar face per visit -- usually it's Mark (a friend of Wyatt and Janis), but we've bumped into other acquaintances in the past. So usually when Nix and I meet for dinner (usually on a Tuesday), we find ourselves at Next Act Pub.
So anyway, Nicole and I were dining out and she's sharing with me her dream of one day owning a bakery-slash-matchmaking service, and the two of us just start matching our single friends with other singles we know and it's fun and it's easy and it's routine. Our friendship is such a foundation of my life -- no, our lives, that most of the heavy work was built back when we were two ragamuffins enjoying recess. She's such a huge part of my life that it's scary for me to think that she would ever not be a part of it. I take for granted how much she knows about me, how long she's known me, how our lives are intertwined.
I remember how my time in Montreal was magical and lovely and perfect in my eyes, yet I made time to Skype with Nicole at least five times a week. Once, we even Skype'd for over seven hours--and we never even ran out of things to say! She's the kind of friend who makes your day that much brighter; she's the friend who you want to share in your adventures. So many times when I think back on a ridiculous event or an epic night, Nicole was there, too.
It's not easy for me to open up to people. I feel narcissistic and egocentric and vulnerable and so silly whenever I share too much of myself with anyone, but it just happens with Nicole. I don't plan on telling her the things I do, but I can't shut up when we start talking. She's not judgmental and she always sees the best in people and in situations, and she's so unassuming. She can get me to smile when I'm at my saddest; can make me feel invincible when I'm ready to give up. She's my best friend. And I know that even if/when my dream of moving to Montreal becomes a reality, that she'll pay me a visit, Rylan (and their two adorable blond-haired, blue-eyed babies) in tow. And I adore Char, Janis, Jenn, Tamara, and Melissa with my whole heart, but Nicole is the friend I'd hypothetically pick to be my maid of honour; she's the friend I'd hypothetically choose to be my first child's godmother; she's the friend I'd hope my hypothetical future partner would ask for help in the hypothetical case that he was going to ask me to marry him.
Cue: dreamy sigh.
She'll forever be the Doug to my Steve Butabi. The Prevail to my MadChild. The cream filling to my Oreo cookie. The person I trust most on this planet. And, not to brag or anything, but ours is the kind of friendship people write books on. I should know. I'm reading a book that's practically based on our friendship.
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