Mexican saying : ‘Dime con quien andas y te dire quien eres.’ (Tell me who you ‘hang out’ with and I will tell you who you are). In short, the friends you select tell the story of the person you are.
Let me tell you about three friends that I could be defined by the most.
My best friend and I met when we were 18 years old and volunteering at the Catholic Church we both attended. I could tell you that it was her sense of humor or her dry wit that brought us close together, but it wasn’t. It was a tube of red Aveda lipstick and her ability to perfectly apply it without the use of a mirror…..It was like magic!
When I tried wearing red lipstick, it got all over my teeth and I looked like a hooker (or it might have been the baby blue eye shadow and enough mascara to put Tammy Fay Baker to shame…. it was the 80’s!). 20 years later we are still best friends. She knows who I am because we were both raised the same way. We share a heritage and a cultural background that allows us to understand each. As girls we celebrated life as only youth can. Now, as grown women, our friendship has only gotten stronger. She is a fabulous wife and mother (For a woman with no patience and the tendency for pre-meditation….this is a shocker!). She has this great ability to eloquently cuss in two languages (then she wonders why she has to go to a teacher-parent conference when her kid is yelling the ‘F’ word in the playground….Geez, I wonder why?). She is amazing with money and she is a great judge of character. She tells me ‘You Suck’ when she knows I am right and ‘Kiss my Ass’ when she doesn’t agree with me…..gotta love her! (Did I mention she is tall, super-model thin and gorgeous….. I really should hate her). Bottom line – I know she would do anything for me and I would do anything for her (even help her hide the bodies..wink! wink!). Can you believe we met at church?
My second friend and I met at work when I was 23. I don’t know if we became friends because we sat right across from each other for four years or because I am a political ‘fence sitter’ and I was a challenge to her (She is an NRA card carrying Republican who can kick your butt in any political debate). Her father is a Southern Black gentleman, her mother Korean and, of course, she’s and exotic beauty (I really should start hanging out with ugly fat people). I owe her my ability to be a ‘positive’ thinker. When I would blather on about my problems, she would turn around and re-frame them for me in a more positive light. I don’t even know if she understands how much that skill has meant to me throughout my adulthood or how well it has served me. Every year for my birthday she gives me the best birthday cards EVER (they all say I am pretty or gorgeous….and I actually believe them). She’s great to argue with, she is a non-apologetic ‘Treky’, she is the one person I can discuss foreign films with and best of all she is as much of a book nerd as I am…possibly even bigger (she understands that reading 2 or 3 books at once is not an ‘odd’ thing).
The third friend I want to tell you about is, hands down, a much better person than I am. She is the furthest removed from my Mexican heritage and thus is appalled by some of the rules and regulations I set down for my niece. She would probably report me to CPS if she wasn’t my friend. We met (at work) when she breezed into my office, plopped herself down next to my desk and started talking about ways we could improve what we did. “Who the Hell do you think you are?” is what I wanted to ask but instead went with ‘Excuse me, who are you and why are you in my office?” …or something to that effect.
So, we didn’t hit it off right away but several months later (after I had made fun of her thong underwear) we became great friends. (YES, you’ve guessed it! She is thin, pretty and this one actually has blond streaks in her hair and perfectly manicured nails….WTF? Why can’t I have UGLY friends!!!) She, above anyone else, knows how to deal with the ‘real’ me. She is patient, forgiving, caring and I don’t know why she hangs out with me but I know am a better person for it.
When we argue and take out the swords (a la ‘Highlander’ style) and shout ‘There can be only one!” as we battle to the death - she is always the first one to come and apologize to me. You might think that would make me feel like ‘the winner’, but it actually just humbles me and shows me ‘how’ a great human should act. She tells me I have a hard heart (because I don’t like to cry)…..but that’s okay because I tell her she is a sissy cry baby…..this seems to work well for both of us.
I am blessed to have them in my life (although, I don’t know how lucky they feel to have me in theirs)
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