Big Sis Super-O to the Rescue!
Friday night was messy. Two margaritas (one of which was bigger than my head), years worth of pent up and held back tears, and a cell phone. These factors, when combined with even a slight trigger equal a huge messy snotty embarassment; imagine the case when feeling pretty damn depressed. My eyes were so swollen on Saturday that my cheekbone connected directly with my bottom lashes. All I can say is that my friends are saints.
Tip-top of the cannonization list belongs to Orphannie, who not only listened to god knows how many hours worth of gut wrenching sobs and seemed to actually be able to make some semblance of coherence out of my garbled words, but she also called back Saturday night to tell me she had just booked a plane ticket to New York for next weekend to come be with me. I was touched and shocked and overcome beyond belief, immediately followed by a harsh descent of disappointment. Unfortunately next weekend I leave for a week of hiking through Canyonlands and Arches with my family. When I informed her of this, her immediate response was "how about the next Saturday?". I told her that my flight doesn't return until around midnight, so she offered Sunday through Tuesday and it was settled; my best friend through high school and college is coming to my rescue! ....for the umpteenth time.
When I was 19 and living in Chicago for the summer (I had moved out of stubbornness, to prove that I wasn't moving there to be near the ex boyfriend that had just dumped me but with whom I was still sleeping), I was brutally attacked one night while getting in my car after work and beaten fairly badly. My brother hitchhiked up to Chicago to come get me and bring me home because he was worried about the medical treatment I was getting (when I told the doctor I had blood in my urine he asked if I was sure I wasn't on my period and suggested we wait a few days to make sure...like I don't get which hole is which?) and worried about me being alone up there. When he died, I thought now there's no one who will come rescue me when I've been attacked in Chicago; no one who has to, and no one I can be certain always will.
Orphannie buying that plane ticket just because I need her right now is the same thing; its her hitchhiking to Chicago to rescue me.
Orphannie and I have been friends for years, weathering many phases of closeness and drifting apart, and many silly battles to boot. We have always been like sisters- we can quibble over anything, people sometimes think we're fighting when we're just being ourselves, we get jealous of eachother, we have had our share of cruel bitter fights,- and yet when we need eachother, no matter the distance between us, the length of time we've gone without talking etc, we have always known without a doubt that the other would be there. She was living in England when my brother died and she flew home and came to live with me for a while. When her mother died we travelled cross country for 2 months. There was just never a question of not doing those things, for either of us.
It surprises me sometimes, though it shouldn't, that even though we have grown apart some and we have completely different lives in completely different cities, when the shit really hits the fan Orphannie is still who I call first. And she's coming; practically on her way! You cannot have any idea how much that means to me.
Tip-top of the cannonization list belongs to Orphannie, who not only listened to god knows how many hours worth of gut wrenching sobs and seemed to actually be able to make some semblance of coherence out of my garbled words, but she also called back Saturday night to tell me she had just booked a plane ticket to New York for next weekend to come be with me. I was touched and shocked and overcome beyond belief, immediately followed by a harsh descent of disappointment. Unfortunately next weekend I leave for a week of hiking through Canyonlands and Arches with my family. When I informed her of this, her immediate response was "how about the next Saturday?". I told her that my flight doesn't return until around midnight, so she offered Sunday through Tuesday and it was settled; my best friend through high school and college is coming to my rescue! ....for the umpteenth time.
When I was 19 and living in Chicago for the summer (I had moved out of stubbornness, to prove that I wasn't moving there to be near the ex boyfriend that had just dumped me but with whom I was still sleeping), I was brutally attacked one night while getting in my car after work and beaten fairly badly. My brother hitchhiked up to Chicago to come get me and bring me home because he was worried about the medical treatment I was getting (when I told the doctor I had blood in my urine he asked if I was sure I wasn't on my period and suggested we wait a few days to make sure...like I don't get which hole is which?) and worried about me being alone up there. When he died, I thought now there's no one who will come rescue me when I've been attacked in Chicago; no one who has to, and no one I can be certain always will.
Orphannie buying that plane ticket just because I need her right now is the same thing; its her hitchhiking to Chicago to rescue me.
Orphannie and I have been friends for years, weathering many phases of closeness and drifting apart, and many silly battles to boot. We have always been like sisters- we can quibble over anything, people sometimes think we're fighting when we're just being ourselves, we get jealous of eachother, we have had our share of cruel bitter fights,- and yet when we need eachother, no matter the distance between us, the length of time we've gone without talking etc, we have always known without a doubt that the other would be there. She was living in England when my brother died and she flew home and came to live with me for a while. When her mother died we travelled cross country for 2 months. There was just never a question of not doing those things, for either of us.
It surprises me sometimes, though it shouldn't, that even though we have grown apart some and we have completely different lives in completely different cities, when the shit really hits the fan Orphannie is still who I call first. And she's coming; practically on her way! You cannot have any idea how much that means to me.
posted by Le Synge Bleu at 6:24 PM
1 Comments:
awww, p'shaw. it ain't no thang. i would probably not be nearly so supportive if you lived in kansas...
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