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2004-09-17 - 9:39 a.m. I miss my friends. I'm feeling very lonely right now. So, I thought I would visit with my friends, at least as much as I can do when they are spread out all over the world and I am stuck here, having another terrible-weather Michigan day. So, allow me to introduce you to three of my friends, and give you a glipse of what our average day together would be like: Rich Rich is in Liverpool, no doubt enjoying a day even drearier than mine. In the seven years that I have known Rich (has it really been that long!), it occurs to me that we've never spent time together during good weather. We are, apparently, bad-weather friends. If Rich was here today, we would probably spend the day lounging around in bed talking about any and everything. Maybe we'd listen to music; at least one Canadian band would be involved. Eventually, we would leave the comfort of a warm bed and see a movie. We always see movies. In Amsterdam, we went to the Tuschinski Theatre in Rembrandtplein and saw "The Pianist." The Tuschinski is amazing; the architect, Abram Icek Tuschinski, was a Jew murdered by the Nazis at Auschwitz. Needless to say, watching a movie about the Holocaust while sitting in Tuschinski's theater was unbearable. The only moment of levity was when the German soldiers were speaking in German, and the subtitles were in Dutch--Rich and I just stared at each other, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, laughed at the absurdity of it. Rich and I have a shared dream. Someday we will form a speed metal band called Umlaut. The band name would consist simply of two dots. We'll worry about learning to play instruments and writing songs later. m/ My favorite memory of Rich: stepping off the train at Liverpool Lime Street Station, looking around nervously for him, only to find that he wasn't there to pick me. Stupid boy was at the bar downing some Irish courage, and forgot what time it was! That's alright, I still love him. Jen Next to Rich, Jen is easily my best friend in the whole wide world. We met initially at debate camp in 1994 (don't laugh), but I honestly didn't think much of the cute little bubbly blonde. A few years later, I saw Jen at a friend's party, now with red hair and a Sloan t-shirt. What followed was the world's greatest platonic love story. I like to take credit for Jen's current domestic bliss. Years ago, she called me, distraught, because one of her good friends, Ian, admitted to being in love with her. I told her to go for it. Now they are happily married and just celebrated their first anniversary. Now, did I will this marriage into being? Of course not! But that doesn't mean that I'm going to let someone else take the credit! Jen and Ian live in Chicago now, and I miss them both terribly. If the three of us were together, we would sit on the couch, order greasy take out, and watch all four seasons of Queer As Folk. Jen shares my love of Canadian power pop, so I'm sure we would, as some point, subject Ian to that. My favorite memory of Jen: During the infamous Weekend O' Sloan, we stopped at a random children's village. It was this park, meant to look like a little town, where all the buildings were kid-sized. We took all kinds of fun pictures, and noticed that the only adult-sized door was for the funeral home. Ah, Katie. As my profile says, Katie and I met in middle school, during our Science class with the dreaded Mr. Strauss. We had mutual friends and a love of The Cure in common. I wore black a lot during my youth, and coupled with my naturally pale skin and black hair, I'm sure I looked quite severe. Katie, a true friend, never held that against me. Katie is in New York now, with her boyfriend Joe. Both are cooler than most of your friends. I saw Katie recently when she was back in Detroit, and she managed to save what was destined to be the shittiest day in Annamaria history. My car had a major boo-boo, there was a rain storm of biblical proportions, and I was having panic attacks. Katie picked me up, drove me to Royal Oak, and we talked over dinner about politics and my need to quit smoking. And she didn't even mind that we were sitting in the smoking section, lit cigarette in my hand, when this conversation occurred. My favorite memory of Katie: I actually have a picture of this at my desk at work. I was in East Lansing, visiting Katie at school. We went to the bar, came home riotously drunk, and *needed* food. We found some English Muffins, which we pretentiously called "Crumpets" all night, and decided to toast them. Unfortunately, Katie's cheap toaster decided it was rather hungry as well, and wouldn't eject them. So, my photograph shows a very drunk Katie with oven mitts on, turning the toaster over and shaking it, trying to expel the hostage crumpets. I think this is a classic you-had-to-be-there story. So, those are my friends. If you would like them to be your friends, email me and maybe I can facilitate an introduction.
By the way, this is me:
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