it goes vwoom together

I was recently pleased to find that my good friend, Nich, had started a blog. I’d like to take a minute to introduce my friend and push some thru traffic over in his direction. I sent him an email detailing some problems with his blog layout and asked if he had anything he would like me to relate to my readers. He hasn’t responded yet, but I can hear his unspoken sentiment, “remember, blogging comes from the heart.”

I thought the best way to introduce Nich might be to share a recent email correspondence we shared. This touching transaction took place after I informed him of my box project.

Nich: yo, send me an invite.
Me: invite sent .. yo.
Me: let me know if it works or no
Nich: hmm… don’t work
Me: ack, ok, let me sent another

You see, Nich and I go way back.

We met many years ago and found an immediate connection in our shared love of wildlife conservation and ballet. Actually, it might be better to say that this connection developed over time, but actually began with basketball.

We used to play basketball on a regular basis. Once, after we were done playing, we headed outside and made a dash for the vehicle. It was my turn for shotgun but Nich stood in the way. I got furious and ripped his shirt. He deferred to me saying, “Jules, you better me with your strength and intellect.”

My high school years revolved around minimally competitive basketball and Utah Jazz games.

We once went to a Jazz game and sat in seats as far from the action as possible. We started looking for openings closer to the floor and slowly worked our way down. Nich made it to the front row. I was about 30 rows up when my ploy was discovered and I, evicted. Nich appeared in a magazine later, featured while sitting on that same front row. The guy who told me to leave had a nice jacket, spiky hair, and a confidant smirk.

I first opened up to Nich during an instant message conversation in which I spoke in ridiculously generic and incoherent musings. He understood my false attempt at intellectual discussion and was OK with it. I was happy to find that although I had utterly exposed myself, lies and all, Nich would still be my friend.

Once, me and Nich lived together. He decided to stop sleeping at night and drew cartoons on the quote board instead. I awoke one cool winter morning before heading to class and found Nich, eyes wide, lying on the kitchen couch. I questioned his frightened expression and he replied that he had seen some spirits just hours before. I took pause to reflect on this statement. As I left the apartment, Nich called after me quietly, “Sometimes they talk to me…”

Spirits were not the only medium through which Nich could communicate. At one point he became fascinated with the aquatic calls of whales. He spent hours and hours downloading the communications of the massive mammals. It still brings tears to my eyes when I contemplate his poetic prayer: “Oh great humpback, sing to me and heal my psychological wounds.”

But our time together was not only spent on the sentimental. The hardest I can remember ever laughing happened while sitting next to Nich. He was having difficulties with something and toeing the edge of sanity. Nich’s brother entered the apartment, coming from class. Nich, already worked to a frenzy, yelled, “Somebody slap me!” Zach calmly closed the distance to his brother and full out smacked him. Not a word was said as Zach departed, and Nich sat awkwardly straight on the couch with a confused look on his face. I couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, my rib separated from the cartilage that connected it to the sternum. I couldn’t breathe for a month and had a splotchy yellow bruise for the better part of a year.

The part I missed most about Nich’s leaving was the end of our trips to the Morris center. The Morris center just has an atmosphere conducive to the sharing of secrets. I told Nich about the girl I intended to marry over chicken fried steak and waffles in a Morris center booth. Her name was Amy and I loved her enough to propose, but not to speak. Nich gave me good advice but I never followed it.

A few months ago, Nich told me a secret. It really scared me and I was afraid we wouldn’t be friends anymore. It turns out we are still friends but we just don’t talk about that anymore.

A week ago, while watching the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air marathon, I told Nich all my secrets and then he told me how much he weighed. I was horrified to find, that for the first time, for as long as I’ve known him, he had more pounds than me. It was kinda sad to realize that he was capable of physically beating me up. I have more respect for him now.

This is kinda odd. I had a long list of things I wanted to say today. Things like my hair is clumpy, I think my shampoo has watermelon rinds in it, I ate 13 donuts in just over 24 hours, I destroyed my core trying to amend my binging, and my place of work has hundreds of signs warning of no hot water today, yet I was still able to burn my hands under the scalding liquid.

Instead, I seem to have written a memorial of sorts. No worries, no one has died yet (tho that is an interesting thought). Anyway, I just wanted to holla back to a friend.

Why am I crying? Oh, hah… I’m free.

Oh, and yes, in response to office mc office party take three? all I can say is, “Amen Jenny… amen.”

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 5th, 2006 at 6:19 pm and is filed under obsessions. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.