12 sleeps part 2

Now that the whole phoenix rising moment has passed, I can pass on to the other thing I was thinking about between 3 and 5 am. I'm a multi-task thinker...

A dear friend of mine from high school uploaded a photo of a few of us from 1995 and I was instantaneously snap! pop! transported back to those days. I've been thinking long and hard about my oldest and dearest friend Kiki. We met when we were four, went to the same schools growing up, did our undergraduate degrees in the same city, lived together for 2 1/2 years during that time then went around the world together. Amazingly, we only fought a few times. It's amazing how much history you can build with a person like that. Aside from the usual growing up stories...practicing for the band, walking to school, getting mad life lessons from mothers over peanut butter sandwiches...we've got a larceny of intensely personal history stories as well.

We actually used to celebrate our anniversary by buying each other flowers (it will be 31 years this September). I used to cheer K up after a bad day by saying, in a 70s smooth Great Gazooba radio dj voice "But your eyes, they are like a river of diamonds in a sea of blackness" then go on and on (and on) from there. We used to dye each others hair, from red to blond and back again until one of us had their hair fall right out of their head. We shared a 3/4 bed (with my cat) in my York University residence for three months after K split with the Chop. When we jumped to Japan, we traveled with a ghetto blaster (pre-digi age) and a bucket load of CDs that we each had collected over the years.

Some bits I remember:

During the Toronto days, I was walking home from the subway station and saw myself on the other side of the road (that is a very weird sensation), then realized it was K because she was wearing my clothes. She thought the same thing at the same time and for the same reasons.

I tried to teach K to drive during the Cape Town 97 days. When she did a left turn across three lanes of traffic on two wheels, I made her pull over and gave her the "The Rearview Mirror Is Your Friend" speech.

We were away for a weekend in the Cederburg at that time. K was yapping away by the fire, looked up, stopped suddenly and asked why the wood planks had knots in them. I had a huge beautiful story about squirrels and nuts that went on for about 10 minutes. Proud of myself, I sighed when I was finished. K looked at me and said "OMG, you are so full of sh*t T!"

We used to play Horse in her mom's shop when we were young. She was Princess Nancy, the prettiest horse in the land, revered by many and desired by all. I was the Black Stallion and no one could catch me.

We took the subway home after a night on the town during the Toronto days. K was tired. I was in charge. I decided it would be fun to get off at random subway stops and switch subways. I was running between trains, between lines, with K shouting after me. Finally, she asked if I knew where I was. I said yes. I looked out the window until the subway came into the station. I said "Dundas". She said "We're going the wrong way!" and I said "There is no wrong way! Only a fun way!"