THE DREAM

I woke up this morning from a dream that left me lonely. Kaitlyn, one of my best friends, is still gone on her (second!) almost month long tour of Europe and I’m pretty sad without her. It’s not that I don’t have other friends to do things with- I’m surrounded by lots of good friends, many whom I grew up with. Take for instance Christina, who I just had a Casablanca costume party with last weekend (don’t ask, but I was photographed in a turban), or Nicole Y. and her little girl who drove up with us this past summer to New York (sorry about that traffic violation), or Nicole F. who is my neighbor, Madrid travel partner and late-night bonfire buddy. So it’s not that I lack friends or don't enjoy the peace of being by myself sometimes, it’s just that I miss my “KayKay”. As she’s probably frolicking in slow motion in some vineyard in southern France living out her own version of “Eat, Love, Pray”, I’m dialing the last digit of her number before remembering she won’t pick up. (sigh…) So to add salt to wound, I had this dream that her and I were shopping at Father & Son vintage store downtown trying on cat-eye glasses and pink starched aprons from the era when women our age cooked casseroles and pie each evening. We were giggling at how silly the other looked in our 1950s get-up, only to hurry and try on another one. A weird dream, I know, but not too far from reality. We actually have shopped together at that store and tried on clothes, minus the cat-eyed glasses and giggles. Before she left she let me know in  no uncertain terms she better not be replaced in my Fave-Five. No way, never. Kaitlyn is the chick I call first when I want to get a group up for the Big Boss Brewery tours. (She’s also actually the one who’s taught me the most about beer). She’s the one to ask about the many wineries here in North Carolina. (I hope I’m not making her out to be a drunkard- she’s a nurse!) She’s the one who didn’t get on my nerves on a 76 hour road trip to Iowa (to see Death Cab for Cuties) and patiently put up with me when I kept belting out early Madonna hits after our Louisville, KY bourbon samplers. All this and she’s  gorgeous, empathetic, eclectic, charming, generous and never talks about anyone behind their back. Oh, and she decorates her house with mostly Anthropolgie. Sheeesh! Yes, she’s darn near perfect and I’m proud to call her one of my best friends. Why she likes me back? I don’t know. I ain’t got much to offer except maybe travel advice (I told her the highlights of Madrid, which she is also going). Maybe so she can say, “One of my best friends is  black”, which is also our little joke since I’m only half black, but I digress… Why dedicate a whole blog entry on Kay? Because I truly value her and I think every person should have a friend they would miss so hard if they left even just temporarily. And I’m actually blessed to have several of these kinds of pals, who are all part of my family. *sniff sniff*  Anyway, my dream ended with a slimy green alien that, after bathing in my tub, transformed his outer shell into the form of a deceitful and contrite politician. Yeah, like that could ever happen.