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you’re like the persians to my sparta

07 Aug

HOLY FLAMING FUCK, WHERE DID ALL YOU PEOPLE COME FROM?

Apparently ‘The Reddit’, according to my little views-counter.  I’m not sure how that happened, but welcome!  Take a look around.  Have a crumpet.  I’m pleased to see you.

Anyway, I was going to talk about a friend of mine today.

In the past couple of days (I’m not precisely sure when exactly) a good friend came back to America. She spent the last year and a half on a mission to New Caledonia, and don’t sweat it if you haven’t heard of New Caledonia. I just usually say ‘Fiji’.

I haven’t seen her for a year and a half. A lot happens in a year and a half. I took on a leadership role in my sorority. I wrote my thesis. I graduated. My last childhood pet died. I went to Japan. My brother got married. My niece grew up. I got my first apartment. I moved in with my boyfriend. I got my first big ‘Out In The World Job’. All of these milestones, though, kind of fail to capture the me that I am now, versus the me that I was. There isn’t any calendar or checklist I can use to evaluate that, and I just can’t go up to my friend and say ‘Nice to see you! To warn you, I’ve changed in the following ways.’

It’s not that easy.

This is not to say that she hasn’t changed at all either. She was always one of the more ‘grown up’ girls in our obnoxious cluster from high school, but deciding to go to a vastly different country, to help those around you on the strength of your convictions…it’s kind of a big deal. I partially expect her to walk through the door, floating ethereally above the ground with a halo gently glowing down on her, God opening doors for her as she goes because really, she’s earned enough holy points for a couple of niceties from Yahweh.

Yes, yes, I know that this isn’t how this works.

I’m really proud of the person my friend has decided to be. I’m proud to know her, proud to say we used to regularly bash skulls in our favorite video games together. Proud of the trips we took and the conversations we had and the ways she has made herself invaluable to the rest of the world. I’m so excited to see her again I feel like I’m swelling up like a marshmallow in a microwave.

I’m also terrified that with that pivotal year and a half between us, we’ll be incompatible strangers, and what then?

Maybe I’ll just point her towards this post, and if she’s not scared off by the ‘flaming fuck’ at the top, things will be okay.

Yep.  Gauging my life by my expletives.  A truly great decision.

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2 Comments

Posted by on August 7, 2009 in Life

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

2 responses to “you’re like the persians to my sparta

  1. Kitty

    August 8, 2009 at 10:13 am

    Wow. What a cool thing to do with your life. I had originally planned on doing something similar after college, but then I went and got married instead. Now I save my husband from his self on a daily basis… does that count?

    Anyway… I’m sure you guys will be fine. She can catch up by reading your archives!

     
  2. Clawmom

    August 19, 2009 at 9:50 pm

    When I glanced at the title I thought it said “Persians to my Spatula” and I had visions of cats and kitchen utensils.
    Musta been something that smelled yummy on the spatula to attract all those cats!
    PS I didn’t see you at the wedding 8/8 but I saw you and your young man in the photos. Glad you could make it.
    (See http://www.ecola.us/CalebAndAlice to view photos)

     

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