To Friends with love

This is going to be a sappy post. You’ve been warned.

The year was 2003 when I started talking to two people who would later become two of the most important people in my life. I was this crazy girl who was kind of on her own for the first time. I had moved to Brantford to attend W Ross MacDonald School for the blind. This was the first time I was really away from my parents, so I was a bit crazy, never doing homework, letting my grades slip and just being generally lazy, since, you know, I was away from home and Mom and Dad couldn’t tell me what to do.

My room mate at the time somehow got talking to me one night and told me about these friends she had named Steve and Carin who I should really meet sometime. I knew Steve’s younger brother, since he was a few years behind me at school, and I thought he was pretty cool. She talked a lot about Steve and Carin. She was in University of Guelph at the time, and he was doing a volunteer radio show. My room mate talked about them a lot and how funny and crazy they were.

I remember the first phone conversation I ever had with them was with Carin when my room mate and I were at a friend’s apartment. My room mate called them and shoved the phone at me. I don’t remember how the conversation went; I just remember something about “Name that DB”. Long story that I probably shouldn’t get into here, but that’s not important. I remember thinking “Man, that was random and hilarious.” Then a few weeks later, I talked to Steve from the residence, and added him to MSN. He and I talked on the phone a lot for awhile, and one day he passed the phone to Carin and we ended up talking for probably four hours. The first of what would later be many many more of those ridiculously long conversations. It was right around Remembrance Day and I remember her talking about some horrible Voltaire book she was reading in her French class. These details aren’t really important, but whatever, I’m writing them down.

So these guys had a new year’s party and invited me. For whatever stupid reason though, my parents said the roads were too icy and they didn’t want me going to this party. Thus, that night was the first new years that I would call just after midnight and wish them Happy New Years. I was really sad I couldn’t be there, because my room mate was there, and I wanted to see her and meet these infamous people who were only phone/msn friends at the time.

Our time came too finally. It was Carin’s 25th birthday. I had to go to a winter camping thing with my outdoor education class, so my room mate and I were going to meet up when I got back from the trip and her dad would drive us to Steve and Carin’s apartment for the weekend. I remember calling Carin on the Sunday, because Steve had gone away for the previous weekend and asking how she was doing. I won’t get into the details, but that weekend wasn’t so great for either of them. Suffice it to say, our fires meeting was a slightly awkward one, but it was still, in my opinion, a lot of fun. That was the first time I ever drank and got drunk. That was the first time I ever learned about games for the blind. The first time I ever learned about the fun of going out to a restaurant in a taxi and being somewhat independent and not having to ask someone to drive me there. So as weird and emotional as that weekend was, I loved it. Oh, one more thing about that weekend. It was the first time that I ever read a Reader’s Digest and a Playboy. Also, singing Rollin’ and I drink Alone in ridiculous harmonies. No matter what I do, I seem to never be able to catch those on recording. Next time Steve, next time.

The second time I went to visit them was in May. We were supposed to be performing Grease that week, but the school was about to go on strike, so things got moved around. That time we stayed for three days, and more awkward craziness ensued. First time drinking beer. First time attempting to make my all time favourite cake for my room mate’s birthday. Carin took my room mate out for ice cream and Steve and I set to the task of trying to bake this cake. Victory shots anyone? Or rotten milk? Rotten milk was my excuse for being a bit giddy when my room mate and Carin got back to the apartment and I had drunk a wee bit too much Kahlua. Right… cuz they’d actually fall for that bullshit. Remember, it was like my second time being drunk so whatever. The cake was a marginal success I think. I liked it anyway.

Carin first came to visit me and my family that summer. Actually, I saw her twice within about two weeks of each other. The first time Mom and Grandma took us to see Mama Mia in Toronto, and the second time she came to my Dad’s house. We were bad, and she brought me lots and lots of junk food since I was on the Atkins diet and couldn’t eat carbs, we had to smuggle them.
I have seen them many times since, and there have been so many ridiculous and crazy times had. My first new year’s party with them in new years of 04-05 was interesting to say the least. We learned just what happens when Barb has a little too much to drink and what kind of strength she really has, and Steve’s undying patience with her while she’s being silly. These two have been together forever, with a bit of a break in the middle. I’m so glad that everything’s working out for them now, because clearly they’re perfect for each other. They have stuck by me through so much bullshit… I’m not always the easiest, most rational person to deal with, but through it all, these two have been there, helped me out, and given me sometimes subtle, sometimes no so subtle ass kickings, just trying to help me and keep me in line, and I think they’re doing a pretty amazing job.

Carin went to guide dog school to get Trixie in March, and I went the end of May. I’ll never forget the time her first guide dog came to my house and decided dryer sheets were tasty. Those were good times.

God, so many stupid inside jokes, from “I’m going to get on a bus that will take me away” to “phones are gay”, and “They’ve got sentence peeds in ‘em… and they run… like bugs…” Sadly, I don’t think I could explain that if I tried, but thinking about all of this makes me giggle every single time.

So, Carin’s 30 now, and it’s been five years that this crazy friendship has lasted. Here’s to two of the best friends a girl could ever ask for, and here’s to a lot more good times with these friends. I am going to see them next Thursday, and fuck I can’t wait. We’ve had some Jose Cuervo sitting at their place waiting for us since I bought it last year. I made them promise not to drink it till they next saw me. Hopefully my dog won’t be a shit face and pee on the floor again so she won’t have to be restricted the whole weekend, bad girl. I love these two very much, and I hope this friendship lasts a really long time and I don’t drive them too nuts. They’re keepers I think. They are pretty special people, and I’m really lucky to have them in my life.

There, the sappy crap is over. Now back to your regularly scheduled randomness that is me.