Back to Basics

This morning on the way to work I found myself annoyed by two high school girls standing next to my seat. They were having a very loud and inane conversation which mostly involved one of them telling a story and the other one saying, "I know, n****r!" I forgot all about them until the end of my shift when I walked onto a train at Mass Ave headed home and heard someone screeching, "n*****r, do I smell like tuna fish to you?" Seriously. What are the odds?
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I had a lovely weekend, kicked off with my final Faceoff show Friday night. Sunday I worked from 3pm to 7pm and was planing to then take a bus to a train and then a taxi over to Bobby and Claire's for the Superbowl. Instead I was lured astray when Caroline called work to see what I was up to. Caroline is an amazing cook and I hadn't seen her since she started moonlighting at the Pine Street Inn (plus she lives very close by) so I jumped at the opportunity. Joseph picked me up after a short train ride and within 15 minutes I was barefoot on their sofa eating spicy soup and debating Melody on the appropriate use of the verb sup*. Caroline and Joseph taught us all how to drink a Mexican Flag, and then, no sooner were the limes and salt put aside when three flavors of sorbet, a pan of warmed berries and fresh hot chocolate sauce appeared.
On Monday night it was my turn to act as a host. Laura made guacamole, and I heated up some chicken wings and one by one a motley crew arrived to watch Groundhog Day. "I can't believe it's only been a year since we watched this last," Laura complained marveled. Me neither. My brother showed up after the movie was over and I was getting ready to turn in. We stayed up and drank tea and talked about recipes for chicken and how badly we'd like to visit Mexico. (Badly.)
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If the entire weekend was categorized by spending quality time with good friends, Saturday afternoon was perhaps the pinnacle. I had lunch with Liz K., who was one of my my closest friends in high school. Liz is going through a bunch of changes in her life, and when I found out, third hand, I called her up. I was nervous as I drove to pick her up in our old neighborhood; for all I knew we had very little still in common. After all, there were reasons we both drifted from the close knit group we were once a part of. As it turns out, I had nothing to fear. We had a four hour lunch and then decided to attend church together. As I knelt beside her in the large, gothic church of our childhood I felt more at peace than I have felt in a very long time, even in prayer or meditation.

I talk a lot about mindfulness and self awareness, and have written before about how important I think it is to reevaluate your knowledge of yourself and to question yourself often. One facet of this that I can never get enough of is reconnecting with the people who knew you before you were you. When Liz and I were close enough to talk every single day and share everything from Latin translations to boyfriends, I was a different person. And just talking to her about even inconsequential things opened up a lot of insight into who I was then, who I am now and how I got here. Senses reconfigured.
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* We were both correct. It is both an archaic word meaning "to eat dinner," (my stance) as well as a more modern word used in place of "sip" when a fluid is more viscous than water but not nearly a solid (her argument).