Monday, January 30, 2006

comparative friendship 101 Our friends sometimes claim to be about as sure of the following equation as they are of e=mc2: Catherine+Meg=Same. Because we tend to be in the same moods when the time comes to have fun, and because we often like to steal away for the same kinds of adventures, we've developed a bit of a reputation. For noise. This got me to thinking: how alike are we? I mean, I know we get along like peanut butter and jelly, but peanut butter and jelly are really different things. So are we more like almond butter and peanut butter? Or two different kinds of jelly? I'm confusing myself. So. Tonight, in the interests of comparative science, we are taking a look at me (megus squealus) and Cat (cattius crazius), category by category. Now, as a side note, people who read this blog apparently got used to the existence of twins with me here in this apartment, being the co-stars in my blog. Then all of the sudden, one twin was gone and a blonde came in her place. I actually got an email asking about that today. You guys have to keep up! Granted, I didn't even know you were paying attention, but still! I did get to keep one twin, and will until June. And I miss the other twin terribly... not because she's a twin, but because she's dear. Okay -- back to the topic at hand... The Way We Were Catherine (born 1980) Meg (born 1974) The funny thing about these two pictures is that I was born on the frozen prairie (well, in a hospital) and Catherine was born on the coast (well, in a hospital on the coast.) But apparently, she managed to find snow, and I managed to find a beach. Career Aspirations Then and Now Then: Catherine (in order): ballerina, teacher, banker, Prime Minister of Canada Meg (in order): ballerina, hockey player, writer, quarterback for the Miami Dolphins Now: Catherine: ballerina, teacher. And guess what she does now? Banking. Meg: ballerina, hockey player (ha!). And guess what she does now? Writing. Siblings Catherine: Two younger brothers, Jonathan and Mark Meg: One older brother, Sean. That's a fairly significant difference -- being the youngest and being the oldest in a family. But, fortunately, my brother is very immature (ha! ha!), so we have more in common than you might think. Favourites Catherine Movies: The Thomas Crowne Affair, Emma, The Notebook, Someone Like You, and Bond (James Bond...) movies Books: David Copperfield, The Godfather, As The Crow Flies, Anne of Green Gables, the Little House on Prairie series Music: Nsync/Justin Timberlake, Alison Krauss, Billy Joel, Vivaldi, James Taylor, Rascal Flatts, Phil Collins, Chicago (Phil Collins? Eeeek!) Meg Movies: Say Anything, Blazing Saddles, Strictly Ballroom, Garden State, Traffic, Amelie, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House Books: One Hundred Years of Solitude, Naked, The Brothers Karamazov, anything by William Faulkner, Flannery O'Connor, Dorothy Parker, David Sedaris, or Oscar Wilde. Music: Gotta give it up for Justin -- he makes you moooove, Al Green, Donny Hathaway, Chopin, Bach, Stevie Wonder, Paul Simon. Now, when you look at this selection, you see that we don't have a whole lot in common in this area, but that's misleading, because both of us are drawn to the same stations on the radio, know the words to the same songs, put the same stuff on mix CDs, and always want to see the same thing at the theatre. So, it works. The book thing? Yeah. We just don't flow there. This should tell you that "favourites" are a load of crap. Pet Peeves and Habits Catherine Pet Peeves: Negativity, people who are pushovers, drama, talking about feelings, when Meg apologizes, the Calgary Flames Habits: Rubs her feet together in bed while she falls asleep, twists hair when anxious or tired, squishes nose when tired, plays with ears (any areas of cartilage are oddly soft... it freaks Meg out!) Meg Pet Peeves: People who stare at my feet, wearing shoes, lukewarm coffee, whining, hair on surfaces (disengaged from bodies, that is), the Edmonton Oilers, Mark Messier, being misunderstood, "sharing emotions", insomnia Habits: Apologizing, not following recipes, laughing, counting things (OCD), wiggling foot in bed to fall asleep, tucking hair behind ear, biting lip, stretching like cat (not Cat, but a cat. Meow!) Obsessions and Loves Catherine Obsessions: Spider Solitaire, MAC makeup, the Gap, hockey in general, disaster coverage on CNN Loves: Canucks, Anderson Cooper, CNN.com, hotel beds, coffee, Trevor Linden, Todd Bertuzzi (but differently than Trevor -- in case he reads this), baths, highlights, lying on the beach Meg Obsessions: iPod, iBook, lip glosses, hockey in general, blogging, checking my email, figuring out how to sleep, the Ricky Gervais Show podcast, Le Show podcast, seeking the ultimate beautifully-written blog Loves: Coffee, the Canucks, Trevor Linden (BACK OFF!), lying on the beach, spicy food, sushi, things that smell like lemon, LAUNDRY (mmmm!), cooking, long drives, the coast. I feel happiest when... Catherine: ...I am outside on vacation -- on a beach, camping, window shopping with a coffee in hand and sunglasses on, getting a tan -- and far removed from all things normal. Meg: ....I am lying on a beach about to pass out because it's so frickin' hot but oooh! the ocean is RIGHT THERE and I can go jump in and float for three hours. I cannot live without... Catherine: Sleep Meg: Coffee Most prized possessions Catherine Sentimental: Van Gogh painting, Mom's antique writing table Material: MEC purse, Gap jeans, CAR! Meg Sentimental: Nonna's wedding rings, Grandma White's writing table Material: iBook, iPod, Catherine's car (even without seat warmers) It's rather odd we both have old writing desks. If I'm ever going to settle down, it will have to be with someone who is... Catherine: ...intelligent, hysterical (not in the panic sense), someone who enjoys watching sports, black coffee drinker, spiritual, strong-willed (remember the pushover thing?), independent, passionate, sexy! Meg:...brilliant, quirky, someone who enjoys watching sports (or is okay if I do), lover of music, logical but abstract, someone who likes to get up and get other people black coffee, wise, has his own vision and goals for his life, passionate! Five things we have in common (from our separate perspectives) Catherine: We love going out to eat, we like coffee, we like the menfolk, we adore hockey, we like going for drives and singing, and we love the beach. Meg: We love going out to eat, we like coffee, we like the menfolk, we adore hockey, we like going out for drives and singing, and we love the beach. Want proof? No other drivers were harmed in the making of this audio post. Nor were the screech owls apparently singing over our voices. Five Words we'd use to describe one another Catherine (speaking of Meg): Comical, brilliant, selfless, beautiful, and talented. Meg (speaking of Catherine): Unconditional, vivacious, wise, beautiful, and hilarious. Okay, maybe we're more alike than we thought. Synopsis: At the end of the day, any set of friends is going to find that their likes intersect, but not so much that they don't sometimes want to change the other person's CD in the car or question what the hell they're watching on TV. I know that when we met almost four years ago now, it only took a weekend for people to mistake us for lifelong friends. Now granted, at age six, I would have been carrying around a newborn, but I bet we'd have had fun then, too. I think we've both spent a lot of time in the last month just being thankful that at this point in time, this year, this stage in our lives, that we've come together in this little apartment with our sweet Kerry. And we'd suggest that you find the time in the next few days to contact the friend you have that lets you be just as free or as crazy as you want to be. Because -- take it from us -- it's a rare gift. And we have more friends than just one another who let us be these things (long lists on both sides), but we're probably the most ridiculous. One more then and now for the books: Catherine Then (Grade One) Now (done up to be a bridesmaid) Meg Then (grade one) Now (running a camp with an IV shunt in her arm on a rainy day with 200 kids) Oh yeah... And now (errr... 2002): Ahh... lucky. 11:11:17 PM    well, yes, but...  [] the story of a girl. I don't have any children. This is completely fine, of course, because I'm not married either, and I think I will need some dude to put a ring on my finger and swear to stick around before anyone is going to deal with me and morning sickness. That being said, I have other peoples' children. And it could be said that they are the best kind, since they have the genes of people I love going for them. (That, and they go home when I am tired.) One of the children I have, then, is Miss Carys. See above. And below. Carys was born last January to two people who love her like the shore loves the ocean, like the stars love the sky, like the grass loves the wind. They feel blessed, and they are. And so is she. Her parents are good friends with one of my present roommates, as well as my former roommate (they're twins, of course, and occasionally share friends, not to mention a birthday.) As these things often nicely go, they ended up becoming my friends as well. And then they had this baby who I fell in love with, and am still in love with, who makes me smile (I do the same for her when I can.) I know I've babbled about my friends' babies here before. If you're not a baby person, it's probably a little annoying. But the great thing is that I'm okay with being annoying. These little ones have brought me so much joy that the least I can do is tell people about it at length, and as loudly and publicly as possible. So I do. I also write them stories. And draw pictures to go with the stories. Carys and the Happy Balloon (a tale of adventure) Once upon a time, there lived a little girl named Carys. She was VERY cute. And not only was she very cute, she was ONE YEAR OLD! When the time came to celebrate her birthday, they had a big ol' bustling party with everyone Carys knew. At this party, she received three gifts all at once from Kerry and Jeff: a balloon with a happy face, tools for gardening with Mommy, and a soccer ball to kick around with Daddy. Just as she got all these amazing gifts, everyone turned to see Daddy do something silly, and then a big wind came up! It caught the happy balloon and carried Carys into THE SKY with her armful of presents! And OH! what a wind it was! It was so fun she forgot to be scared! Way up in the sky it took her all the way to Kelowna, where Kristy waved at her from the ground below. And then the wind blew her all the way back down to Vancouver, where Meg and Cat waved up at her. It was so very fun! Even the balloon seemed to smile a bit more! But there was one problem: THE OCEAN was the next thing coming. Uh oh! And as fun as floating might be, the ocean was FAR. Even the balloon was starting to worry. But then she had an idea! She took her wee shovel and POPPED the happy balloon (and folded it up to save). Then she was FALLING! But... WHEW! The ground and Carys were quickly seperated by the soccer ball, which BOUNCED her all the way home to Mommy and Daddy! And everyone (even the folded balloon) lived happily ever after. THE END. She liked it. So did her mommy. We had a wee party tonight, just here at the apartment, with goodies from the nice lady at the Persian bakery who scolded me not to go out in the rain without a jacket and gave me a free slice of baklava. We also had peppermint tea, which Carys tried for the first time and loves. As I walked down the hallway with little fingers curled around my fingers, attached to a little person toddling in front of me, I could not help but grin. I picked her up in my arms as we passed by the hall mirror to show her how happy she makes me. And she smiled at my face, whacked me with her hand, and squirmed to be put down and walk some more. So we did. I thought about how much lies ahead for her as we made our way back to the living room, slow step by slow step. I thought about all the birthdays, all the moments, all the good stuff, all the tough stuff, all the hopes, all the challenges... everything that makes up a life. She is so new to this, even after a year. And she depends on us right now to take her through it, to hold the cup of tea to her lips, to give her our hands to hold her steady, to snap up her fuzzy pajamas and keep her warm. Her parents do it because they love her more than they love themselves, really, and because she is their beautiful, beautiful gift. I do it because they share. This poem is for you, Carys May, and for all the babies and daughters and moms and friends out there who make my world a better place in big ways and small. For Greg and Crystal and Aayla. For Nancy, who is waiting. For Dick, who is overwhelmed with his good fortune in children older and younger. For Birdie, who has not forgotten her child heart and brings joy to her boys' lives each day. For those of you with grown-up kids who you might not hear from too often (but, of course, you still have pictures on the mantle of how they looked in grade two -- pictures they cringe at when they come home.) For my mom and dad, who loved me when I could not walk and love me now even when I walk away. For my dear, dear friend tonight who saw me cry and reminded me that falling down isn't such a big deal. Babies do it every day and get back up, Meg -- why can't you? I will, I will. But, for now, here: a blessing for all of you you were so small the first time I saw you eyes closed to the light, hands curled into fists fighting awake, clinging to sleep. i put my finger in yours to feel a tiny grip stroked your cheek and said a prayer of thanks because what else could I do? there are years to come and hours to live and who knows now what you will try what things will make you shine like the sun... but hear this, little one: you are lovely now and will be always to me no matter what else comes from here on in. because I held you when you were weak I believe in you to grow strong and I will love you either way. may you learn from my mistakes may my stories bring you laughter may my victories spur you on to your own. but most of all may I remember this day and how it felt to whisper promises in your ears and to mean every word. Happy birthday, girl. 12:37:47 AM    well, yes, but...  []

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