long but not lost?

photo: hellogiggles

I'm so hesitant to post this, and I'm not sure why. I've had it ready to go for days, but haven't been able to push the publish button... for no good reason really. Well, part of the point of blogging is to put yourself out there and face the consequences, so here goes... a little piece of my heart.

It's a funny thing when you lose a friend.

A few years ago, I lost a friend - not just a friend, but a close friend... a best friend. Don't get the wrong idea, he didn't pass away - it was nothing that final or, honestly, that easy. I lost him to a series of unfortunate events that led him to no longer be my friend. I lost him to his inability to tell me the truth, and my inability to get over my fear of confrontation and just ask to have my needs met. I lost him to his running away from a problem, and my own fury at being lied to and avoided. A series of very unfortunate events that culminated in totally cutting ties with one another.

It cut me to the core.

He is the first person that I've ever lost in this way, not the only one, but definitely the loss I felt the hardest and mourned the longest. I didn't write for years, literally years, because he was the one that I used to bounce my writing off of. He was the one that gave me honest feedback. If something I'd been working on was terrible, truly horrible, he'd say, "Not so good, Jazz. Try again." or "You can do better than that." And when I succeeded with something, he'd nod his head and give me a simple, "Nice." No big show about about it, because that's not how he rolled, but I knew it when he thought my work was good, and I felt good about it. Losing him may have been the final straw of why I quit acting for real. He was my honest opinion. We'd done so much theatre together, so much GREAT theatre, that not having him to talk it out with, or work on audition material with, or cry outside of rehearsal when I just couldn't cram another ridiculous lyric in my brain with made the work a little less sweet.

He was a person that I knew better than I knew myself, but also would always be a total mystery to me. He's a gay republican... How does that even happen?! Just kidding... kind of. ;) It's one of the things about him that never made sense to me, but added to his overall You just never know that he had, and likely still has, going on.

I've thought about him so much, almost daily, since our "split", and I still feel it as raw as I did on the day I first realized that he wasn't coming back. I miss him deeply, but I've also come to terms with the fact that we really may never speak again. It's a hard thing to cope with, but it was ultimately something that I realized may be forever, especially when both parties do unforgivable things to one another. I'm not proud of what I did to drive the final stake between us, but I don't know that I would take it back either. At some level, I think he needed it to happen in order to realize that you can't just walk out on someone that trusted you. Or, you know, maybe not. Maybe my reactive behavior taught him nothing positive. I may never know either way.

And then again, maybe I will...

A few days ago, as B and I were going through boxes from our move PRIOR to this one, boxes that I hadn't opened in over a year, I found a bunch of his stuff. Sweet, important stuff, like kindergarten report cards and photos of his friends, that I'd been holding on to in case he came back. Well, he never came back, and I'm not a person that could throw out such obviously personal things, even those belonging to a person that I was so furious with. Seeing how torn I was about them, B asked me if he could facebook message the owner and ask if he wanted these precious items. I nodded, and didn't say much. B did, and with a speedy reply, my old friend said yes, and offered to pay shipping (which is totally unnecessary). He also said that he thought of us often and asked if it would be okay to write an email to catch up.

I was floored. I didn't expect to feel such a swift kick in the gut when B told me about the reply. I didn't expect to feel relief flooding through me. But I did. I felt joy... plain and simple. My friend, that I had wished the best for and missed desperately, wanted to write to me.

I only want to talk to him. I want to know where he's been and what he's been doing. I want to know what his hopes and dreams are, if they're still the same, and I want him to know mine. I want him to know that life has been kind to me in some ways, and very difficult in others. Most of all, I want him to know that I've missed him so terribly. I want him to know that every time I hear "Hey Jealousy", I think of us, driving around town, laughing so hard our faces hurt, and him eating JBCB's at every Wendy's we passed.  Every time I hear or read the words "praise band", I think of his made-up lyrics, "Her sister was in the praise band. It's funny, cause she's a sinner." and I smile hard before the bittersweetness sobers me up.

We will probably never be like we were. We will probably take years to recover what we lost, and I don't know if he's even interested in that. But just knowing that he's out there - that he's thought of me and missed me... well, it's almost enough to make the sadness worthwhile.

Almost.

Have any of you ever lost a friend like this? Have you reconciled and reunited? Should I let go of my expectations - since it's expectations that got us here in the first place - and just hope?

I'll take the advice where I can get it... this is a tough one for me.

mom love

Yesterday was mother's day, obviously, but I was really lazy, so I thought I would leave this ode to my mama post for today. Don't judge. Better late than never, I always say.

My mom is so cool. But more than that, my mom is super supportive, and she almost always knows the answer to any question I could possibly have. If I'm driving and my directions are a big fat liar, she somehow ALWAYS knows the way to my destination even if she's 3 states away and has never been there before. She knows what highway will have the most traffic - without ever having driven on it. She knows what all the lights on my dashboard mean and when to take them seriously. She knows how to cook everything - and knows how to fix anything that I've made that turns out disastrous. She thinks it's funny that our dogs have voices (and call her grandma). She makes me buy clothes that I wouldn't normally buy, and I almost never regret the outfit choices later. She lets me make my own choices, and never says 'I told you so' when something doesn't go the way I have planned. She thinks I'm funny - or pretends to, at least. She gave me my fabulous skin that seemingly never ages... Amazing! She taught me how to buy a house, a car, and how to tell if jewelry is real. She taught me that it's better to pay a little more for quality. She taught me patience, and that it's possible to deal with truly impossible people. She taught me that it's okay to ask for help, okay to cry if you want to, but that we are strong, and no matter what, we do not crumble under pressure. We stay strong and we pull through better for it on the other side.

BUT, there are imperfect things too! Like, why do I have ENORMOUS skis for feet when she has tiny ones that look cute in every shoe? Why do we both have to get horrible migraines? And why does she have to be so far away when I need a mom hug at the end of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? 

I miss you every single day, mama! I can't wait until you come and visit me - and teach me how to make everything fit in my closet.

love springs [eternal]

I'm sipping red wine left over from dinner, watching hockey in the dark while B cuddles down with the dogs in bed, and I'm ready to share something life changing from last weekend...

Lets talk about spa, baby.

As I mentioned in my last post, I got to hang out with my dearest old friend EE to celebrate the anniversary of her birth. For the record, so glad that you were born [before me], EE.

Thanks to her awesome wife, LB, we were sent to Bedford Springs to do girly things like get facials, massages, and eat our weight in awesome food. Check, Check, and Check! That joint is gorgeous.

all of these were taken in the bug with the top down!

And that's just the outside. Would you like to go in? Yes? Thought so.

vanity in our bathroom.
it pleased the 10 year old girls inside of us.

our room!

full length mirror!
hello inner 10 year old, why don't you go twirl!

caught you EE!

the beds look like they want to hold you
and do they ever.

Even the freaking hallways are gorgeous:

en route to the spa.
it's like a greek temple.
I would live there.

I loved this wallpaper so much that I commented on how much I loved it...
every time we walked passed.

Food? Gorgeous.

Breakfast in bed? Don't mind if I do!

even after 20 years of friendship, we're still as cute as we were in 6th grade.
EE is as beautiful as ever!
Please bear in mind that I hadn't had a lot of sleep in the days prior to this mirror snap.
Thanks.

It was so amazing to settle back into a routine together. Putting on makeup in the bathroom mirror together, sharing secrets without a second thought, and finding out that - even though life has separated us by several hundred miles, and time has aged our hearts and minds, deep down we're still the same girls that shared secrets in our childhood bedrooms, and we are just as similar as ever.

Through all the talking and sharing, I realized that while so much has changed in our lives, circumstances, and zip codes - I still recognized my oldest soul friend. And I will always love her.

That realization, and this sign, were the very best part of the weekend.

Love you EE.

xoxo

personal jesus

He may look a little savior-like, but it's the music that saves.

Here's how I started my day today. Sheer perfection. Singing begins at 1:05.

enjoy
xoxo

eldercats.

Yesterday I met a handsome 21 year old eldercat named Kincaide.  He was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. His eyes were cloudy, his fur segmented, his back end starting to hollow out, his shoulders hunched - but he was so special and I doubt his face will leave my mind for a long time. He came running (very slowly, on teetering legs) to me and pushed his face into my hands. I scratched and rubbed his face, and got the best reward - the loudest, longest purr I've ever heard from a cat. So thankful, so loving, and so warm.

I wish I had taken a picture.

But, he looks a lot like facebook "figure" Juliet - of The Grannies - a 21 year old cat saved from Animal Care and Control here in Manhattan, with her sister Kate...

Grannies Juliet and Kate, before Kate's passing last year.

Juliet looks just like Kincaide here. Though his eyes are cloudier.
Simply beautiful.

Sadly, sparkly-eyed Katie left us in 2011, but Juliet lives on in a VERY loving home, spreading the message that senior animals really do make the best friends.

Kincaide's mom, C, told me that he'd just gotten out of the hospital for his diabetes. She gives him insulin injections twice everyday, and gives him sub-q fluid daily as well. His quality of life is really fantastic, and she doesn't regret a moment or a dollar, because he's been with her through everything. Divorce, remarriage, divorce, raising her daughter, move after move after move. He's truly the longest relationship she's ever had, after finding him in a parking lot of a diner when her daughter was 5, and he's rewarded her with 21 years of unconditional love and affection. What more can you ask for? To me, nothing.

I can only hope that my beautiful cats, Sookie and The Cheshire Cat, choose to stick with me as long as Kincaide and Juliet.

The Cheshire Cat, having just appeared in a cloud of smoke.

Sookie, trying to abuse the camera.

They're still young - Sook is 2ish and Cess is 5-6 - but I can't help but think about what they'll be like when they're little old ladies, staring at teenaged kids and yelling for their food... which they do already. There's nothing I wouldn't do for them - vet visits, injections, daily fluids, pills, and daily scratches as a thank you. Because I love them.

What do you think your cat(s) will be like in 10 or 15 years? What about your dog(s)?

Mine will remain awesome. ;)

the family you choose...

My friend, Ellie, was hit by a cab on Saturday. She's got a broken leg and a broken arm. She's in a wheelchair and basically confined to her Murray Hill apartment. To top it all off, she's over 65 and she looks so much like my grandmother that I can't help but love her. She has a little dog (that I adopted out to her) that she can't care for while she's totally immobile, and I didn't hesitate in taking her pooch and caring for her while she couldn't. Why? Not just because of my obligation to the dog, but because she's important to me, and her health is important to me, and if taking Jess off of her hands for a few weeks helps her to heal, then I'll do what it takes.

This got me thinking that there is something special about New York City where friends are concerned, something that seems to happen no where else, that you actually start building your own family out of the friends you make - and not just friends your own age, but people of all ages who support you that absolutely don't HAVE to. Does that make sense? I've made the most amazing family here... my friends are so understanding and patient - when I'm totally off the wall with work or the critters, and I don't see or speak to them for days at a time, they're not annoyed, because they get it. They're busy too, time doesn't work right here, and days pass without really noticing.

So to my friend-family (framily?) that makes living in this crazy city easier: thank you. I am so lucky to have all of you. You know who you are - the ones that meet for brunch, the ones that care as much about the critters as I do, the ones I don't see as much as I would like to, the ones who seem to know just when to text or email a funny picture or one liner when I'm having a bad day. Each and every one of you makes me feel less alone, and here, in this crazy town, that's something really really special.

I get to see my natural family this weekend too, which is awesome, especially since we're getting to come together for Amy's wedding, and everyone will be sharing her joy.

And getting another weekend away will be super nice. Thanks to Abby, who will watch the critters and the house while we're away, it's a possibility. Framily enables everything.