WiTh ReaL FriEnDs

You can have fun anywhere, including in the pouring rain. I've had a couple of occasions in the past month or so where I've been talking to someone who, in my opinion, I've spent more time with than the average DC-ite. Yet, during these conversations I've been more than a bit surprised to hear how they view me. More specifically, HOW they view my personality.

This faulty classification reminded me of an experience I had my senior year of high school. Like the true random spirit I am, I liked to mix things up. I took my nerdy AP classes, participated in over achiever's student government, played sports with the jocks and mixed it in with a dash of emo/punk rocker art classes. Well, in my AP English class I mostly sat there... like a mute. My teacher would often try to prod me into increased participation, thinking I was this shy, timid soul. But I was happy to just do my work and be done. To my left I was surrounded by band people who would talk about the band drama that, weeeell I didn't know or care about? Then on my right was our future valedictorian, who would talk about his chess tournaments. Interesting? Yes. But to a 17 year old? Not so much. So, I just sat there and waited for the somewhat hellish hour to end.

My next class found me in Pre Calculus, where I sat with my friends Chris and Jen. We cracked a lot of jokes, Even the teacher laughed a lot. But, I will admit we got in our fair share of trouble--The worst when she found the bologna Chris hid behind her calendar. She thought our jokes about always being hungry for bologna, singing the Oscar Meyer Wiener song, or it smelling like some sort of meat was funny, until she found it petrified to her calendar 2 months later. Eventually she separated us across the classroom. But somehow, slowly, we ended up right next to each other again on the other side of the classroom. I remember one afternoon completely being on one. I was making the class laugh a lot, bantering between the teacher and Chris. However, since the teacher did need to get through the lesson, she was growing increasingly exacerbated. After class she was out in the hall talking with my friends and I when my English teacher joined the conversation. She began talking to my PreCalc teacher who asked "Is Melinda like this in your classroom?!" to which my equally perplexed, but in a "why isn't she like this in my class" way responded, "umm... uhh, no. Not at all." They couldn't figure out how to reconcile the two different "Melindas'" they had conjured in their minds. And while my math teacher continued to equally relish and angst the way I acted in her classroom (bologna incident, remember) my English teacher began to study me with a curious eye. Now, does this happen to anyone else?


Now, fast forward ten years.

 I'm chatting with a few friends and they begin to label the type of personality they believe I have. I look at them a bit curiously, and a flashback to the PreCalc/English conundrum. I've always considered myself (as would those who know me best) as the "me" in PreCalc-- the one who has the subtly sarcastic and mischievous sense of humor. But somehow, and I'm not sure what brings it out, there are those instances where I morph into the English me. Sadly, I'd say a lot of people in D.C. consider me to ONLY BE the English version of myself... and because of that, this weekend gave me a great opportunity to savor the friends who know me best.

My friend Ivy came into town from Idaho and we met up with our other friend Heather, who lives in the area. I laughed at them, they laughed at me, I laughed because their laughs are COMPLETELY contagious... and I laughed because I'm comfortable knowing that they know the REAL me. Discussion quickly turned from idiotic banter to deep, heartfelt discussions. Whether we were sitting on a couch chatting, running through the commencing autumn rain or trying to be sensible adults, we were one. Because we know each other, we love each other and we see the best in each other.

After enjoying this fantastic company, my appreciation came to a culmination when I finished a book, which stated, "I wish I could find a way to properly acknowledge my friends for all the help they [give] me. Together they wove a net beneath my tightrope...I don't know how to repay them. In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it's wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever, and sincerely, for as long as we have a voice."

To those precious few who know me, to those who love me despite my idiocy, to those who bother to know my heart. Thank you. xx