|analytical Q||May-Aug 2000||Sept-Dec 2000||Jan-Apr 2001||Discussion|
Lemondrops and I go way back. We are contrasts in every way except for independence and goofiness. She's blonde. She's a single child. She lives in the US.
Friendship is not measured by the time spent together. We had not seen or talked to each other for the past one and a half years, during which time she went through the greatest changes in her life. We did not share any of these parallel experiences, yet in one phone call, we quickly determined the importance of seeing each other - even if it was only 48 hours.
As teenagers, we planned our famous theme parties. I invited her to join my band Ku and the Guys on after-practice outings. She taught me how to enjoy Pina Colada's. By the time her father took us out for cocktails, we were already well versed in Mai Tai's, Singapore Sling's, and Grasshopper's.
The first time I went to the states, I brought eight fresh pineapples, seven leis (of flowers), and a coconut from Hawaii. That night we made fresh Pina Colada's at a Georgia Tech fraternity party. The next morning, she backed out her new rental car into an incoming truck.
Our friendship is made up of such memories. It's like being teenagers again, only the roles have reversed. She's a gourmet cook, and I'm the connoisseur.