Maybe he'll read my blog when he's away.
For many years a guy named Casey made delicious muffins that were sold in coffee stores all over Midtown. About two years ago, he locked away his recipes and moved to Poland. My quality of life was noticeably worsened, ‘cause those were some excellent muffins. This week a new taqueria opened two short blocks from my house, and their vegetarian burrito was really, really yummy. If they keep that up, my life is going to be vastly better for having such good food so close. They were nice, too.
My life also took a turn for the better recently when the sharper, funnier Megan moved back to town. I didn’t grow up knowing any other Megans and I reflexively dislike them, ‘cause why are they moving in on my name? But within a couple minutes of meeting the sharper, funnier Megan I knew she could represent. A couple minutes more and I started to worry that I wasn’t gonna live up to our shared name. Anyway, she’s awesome and I am so glad she and her husband are back.
But even a close new taqueria and the funnier Megan aren’t going to be enough to compensate for the loss coming my way. Chris goes away to grad school (Berkeley, urban planning) this weekend. As soon as I realize what that means, I am going to be very sad.
Chris and I dated for a year in undergrad and have stayed close ever since. There’ve been years since we graduated that we lived in different cities, and times when we didn’t talk for weeks, just trusting the underlying affection. I assume that when he is in the throes of grad school we’ll go back to that. But for three years now, he’s lived within a couple miles of me, and for a while I am going to miss that terribly.
When Chris first moved back, he would be frantically running errands but dash into my house to hug me before getting back to his chores. I called them drive-by huggings. On my way back from the gym in the mornings, I would ride up to his house and sing under his window until he leaned out. I called him with good news and cried to him when I was hurt. I get mad at him if he isn’t hungry when he comes by, because he knows better than that. We’ve sat quiet on our porches and painted each other’s houses.
Chris has more faith in my strength and ability than I do. He’ll get me to climb trees, or scramble on rocks, or confess crushes, or plan things, knowing that I can get the rest of the way on my own. He came over one time to help me repair my sink. Took the thing most of the way apart, looked me over hard, and said “you can do this.” Then he left and I fixed it! I was proud for days.
I’m excited and happy for him. He is going to love grad school. He’ll only be gone for two years, and not very far away at that. I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t move back to Sac when he’s done. I’m sure he’s going to bring back some wickedly smart, beautiful wife and I can’t wait to meet her. But being able to see him often, on short notice, for unimportant things has been a huge source of joy and fun in my life. I’ll miss him.
My life also took a turn for the better recently when the sharper, funnier Megan moved back to town. I didn’t grow up knowing any other Megans and I reflexively dislike them, ‘cause why are they moving in on my name? But within a couple minutes of meeting the sharper, funnier Megan I knew she could represent. A couple minutes more and I started to worry that I wasn’t gonna live up to our shared name. Anyway, she’s awesome and I am so glad she and her husband are back.
But even a close new taqueria and the funnier Megan aren’t going to be enough to compensate for the loss coming my way. Chris goes away to grad school (Berkeley, urban planning) this weekend. As soon as I realize what that means, I am going to be very sad.
Chris and I dated for a year in undergrad and have stayed close ever since. There’ve been years since we graduated that we lived in different cities, and times when we didn’t talk for weeks, just trusting the underlying affection. I assume that when he is in the throes of grad school we’ll go back to that. But for three years now, he’s lived within a couple miles of me, and for a while I am going to miss that terribly.
When Chris first moved back, he would be frantically running errands but dash into my house to hug me before getting back to his chores. I called them drive-by huggings. On my way back from the gym in the mornings, I would ride up to his house and sing under his window until he leaned out. I called him with good news and cried to him when I was hurt. I get mad at him if he isn’t hungry when he comes by, because he knows better than that. We’ve sat quiet on our porches and painted each other’s houses.
Chris has more faith in my strength and ability than I do. He’ll get me to climb trees, or scramble on rocks, or confess crushes, or plan things, knowing that I can get the rest of the way on my own. He came over one time to help me repair my sink. Took the thing most of the way apart, looked me over hard, and said “you can do this.” Then he left and I fixed it! I was proud for days.
I’m excited and happy for him. He is going to love grad school. He’ll only be gone for two years, and not very far away at that. I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t move back to Sac when he’s done. I’m sure he’s going to bring back some wickedly smart, beautiful wife and I can’t wait to meet her. But being able to see him often, on short notice, for unimportant things has been a huge source of joy and fun in my life. I’ll miss him.
posted by Megan at 11:45 AM
12 Comments:
I like (Short/my(your)) Chris also...
-Tall Chris
Well, if you're losing a friend, isn't that the ideal time to go find a new friend to replace him? You know, meet new people and try new things, stuff like that? It's usually easier to do when you lose the things that are making you content.
It is nice to have someone around to push you appropriately, making you try things you'd likely shy away from on your own. Though, some people don't take the pushing very well. It's good you enjoy it. I know people who get angry very quickly, then just quit when pushed.
Justin
Yes! I will replace Chris! Maybe this weekend. Or next weekend, whichever. Shouldn't take long.
Fine, maybe replace wasn't the right word. But, same idea.
The danger in being content is there's no drive to make things change. But, you're looking for change, right? You want to find a boyfriend, but haven't been able to. So, anything that makes you less content, and opens up space in your life for new things might be good.
It was just a couple years ago that all of my old friends got married that freed up my time to start climbing 1.5 years ago, which is where I met most of the people I spend my free time with now. And, on top of that, I've done a bunch of things since then that 2 years ago I don't think I would have imagined myself doing.
Justin
I didn’t grow up knowing any other Megans and I reflexively dislike them
I'm the same exact way about Justus. Every other Justus I have met is more of a dick than I am.
I'm the opposite. There were 7 Justins in my HS class of about 220.
My oldest friend's name is Justin.
In grade school there was another kid with the exact same name as me, first middle and last.
Justin
As for Jens, "There Can Only Be One". I was about 12 years old before I ever met another Jens - Jens Jensen, in fact. Fortunately, he had been the only white boy in an all-black neighborhood (we were the 2nd white family) and everybody just called him "Pinky".
The first time somebody else signed himself "Jens" on the Internet (a Usenet group back in the old days) I sent him an angry letter saying I had been there first. He was nonplussed, and said "but there are many Jenses where I live!". I had to give that one up.
A bartender at one of my favorite pubs knew a Jens, and when he came into town she introduced us. But he never moved here.
Of course now half the players on the German World Cup team seem to be named Jens, but it wasn't until recently, in my forties, that I've actually had to accommodate another Jens on a semi-regular basis. Our Arthur Murray's had two locations, and we usually danced at the Irondequoit studio. But once we attended a group lesson at the Henrietta studio, and the instructor said, "Jens, come to this corner." Two of us complied. Yes, his name was ALSO Jens Jensen, and he was from Denmark. Later, his wife was the nurse-anesthesiologist at one of my wife's operations. He is a bit older than me, but he is slender. I just grit my teeth and bear it.
All of those relationships have to end, no one can stand to date anyone they get along with too well.
Justin
Well, for one, he dumped me.
For two, we aren't in love anymore.
For three, the ways we weren't incompatible (like the mechanics of how we live day to day) weren't a big deal in college (when how you live is greatly constrained), but would be a much bigger deal now.
I guess there's other stuff, but I should either do a thorough job talking about it, or not bring it up at all. I'll let that percolate.
Can we let it steep, I don't like coffee.
Ennis,
Ananda isn't my Anand. (More than one person can have these funny foreign names, you know. Not all brown people are the same, so which you might know if you opened your eyes a little.)
The more important question is: when will Anand ever blog again? He's funny as hell.
Wow! I never thought of that. Would he be willing to post regularly in exchange for my having a cell phone...
I don't think Anand's even been reading the blog much recently. BOOOO! BOO, I say!
He's never told me if he has opinions about my rack. He's seen it, though, because of the naked co-op. And he is hung like a horse, in case y'all were wondering about him. We used to call him Vegan Meat.
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