Thursday, May 03, 2007

The Story of Meg and Cupcake and the Beginning Of My Much Needed Vacation

In July of 2005, a random stranger and I decided to rent a house together. Honestly, she was a complete stranger. I had no idea who she was other than she was a friend of a friend of a friend. The notion of living with her did not bother me at all. I had no hesitation because my infallible super powers are my ability to be exceptionally easy-going and patient, plus, I have always been lucky with people. When I write always, I mean always. It's quite remarkable, and every day, I am tremendously grateful for the people and the luck.

On a sunny day in my favorite month, I stood at the top of the stairs trying to hide a key in a flower pot. The flower pot was a narrow rectangle with a plastic liner dividing the soil from the clay. I managed to drop the little key between the liner and the clay. I did not want to ruin the plant, but I also wanted to leave a key for my new roommate so I dug frantically in an attempt to get it out. Of course, while I was digging and fussing over this key, my roommate-to-be arrived. Meg stood at the bottom of the stairs and started laughing. My first words to her were, "I lost your key in the flower pot!" From that moment on, our friendship was sealed. She climbed the stairs to help me dig it out. Now, she's one of my bestest friends.

Last Tuesday, April 24, I jumped the train to go to Meg's in Boston. I was quite proud of my packing, as I fit a week's worth of travel into a small carry on bag. I was so exhilarated at the prospects of spending a week away, I could barely contain my excitement. I find trains nostalgic and romantic, which usually leads me to be reflective, however, not this trip. I watched the scenery then began one of the five books I would read in six days: "Love is a Mix Tape." The book kept my attention until I arrived in Boston.

Meg and I met in the Boston Common. She was on bike and I was wheeling luggage. We met her friend for dinner at a small restaurant in a basement of a building near the Suffolk Law School. Of course, I cannot remember the name of the place, but the ambiance was good and the food was tasty, but even better was the company. I do not get to see Meg as much as I use to now that she's a student. I look forward to nights here and there as well as her vacations as much as she does.

After dinner, we indulged in ice cream and ventured back to her house. When I walked in, I couldn't help but feel somewhat at home. Does anyone know how strange it it to see belongings that once furnished your home now somewhere else of which you are no longer a part? This has happened to me quite a bit and every time I'm hit with the wave of the familiar, I immediately well with a feeling I have yet to figure out. Tuesday night, I particularly missed Meg, her mixing bowls, library, and her eagerness for life. However, it did not take long for us to be chatting like school girls before we fell fast asleep. I think we ended our conversation with the idea people who give pretty invitations are evil, as they make the receivers of such delights feel guilty for throwing the useless beautiful decorations away (this coming from girls who love paper and heart Paper Source more than anyone I know. Go figure).

What a wonderful way to begin a vacation... of course, that was until I had to wake up at 4 am to meet the cab to get to Logan by 4:30 for my 6 a.m. flight...


Single Jen said...

That touched me. Married Jen's house does the same thing to me. We were roommates for so long and it sometimes makes me nostalgic when I see an item that used to be in "our" house.

Geez I sound gay:-)

Thanks for commenting on our blog!

cupcake said...

I know what you mean. It's a very strange thing. I use to be a live in nanny for a family until I graduated college. I still babysat for them but it was so strange to go back to their house and not live there. It's hard to describe.