Friday, August 21, 2009

My People

I have some news that I want to share but I can't on account of it not being my news. But I feel like it is my news. But feelings are not facts. - Feelings are NOT facts. - So...I have to wait.

The news involves a dear friend and I am just over the moon for her!

Over the moon? Do I say "over the moon"? Am I 65 or a publicist for Sarah Jessica Parker? NO!!

What I meant so say, is, like, I am so, SO totally psyched for my girl. Yeah, that's what I meant to say. But, I can't tell anyone why, yet. Hopefully, soon, though.

Yay!

Having this news and waiting to share, however, made me think about how wierd it is that I am so excited for her. She's not family. She's not my bff. But, somehow, some way, there is this spot in my heart just for her. She's one of my people. One of my people that I just love, just because I do. One of those people I love and kinda act like they belong to me, sometimes. Not in a creepy way, more in a momma kind of way. I think about them and pray for them and hug on them whenever they are around. I can't explain it. It just happens sometimes.

I'm glad it happens sometimes!

The last time it happened was with Nin. She's Canadian. And...before I tell you anything else about her, let me ask you a question. Do you know any Canadians? If you don't, rectify that immediately! I don't care what the movies tell you, Canadians are awesome. They aren't backwards. They don't all wear overalls. They don't all say "eh"...which is actually kind of sad for me. But, regardless, find a Canadian and become their friend today. You won't regret it! So, anyway, back to Nin...

She lives in Canada. She has piercings. She likes to dye her hair a lot. She is fearless in a way I may never know. She's married with 2 adorable kids. And, the year she was born, I started my period, tried my first cigarette, and got grounded often for wearing make-up without permission. Good times.

We couldn’t be more different, really. Well, except for our love of movie quotes. But, I love her? We already have several inside jokes...like the question mark after "love her" and, though we've never met in person, or even talked on the phone, I feel connected to her. She is one of my people. I can't explain that. It just happens sometimes. And, I'm very glad it happened this time.

Then, there is Yves. He's my brother from an African mother. He speaks French. Adores hip hop. Wears really cool outfits that include members only jackets, trucker hats, pink Chucks, and fake gold “$” chains. He is very cerebral and philosophical and theoretical. The year he was born, I fell in love with Michael Jackson and wanted to be Olivia Newton John. We met on an RV at midnight not quite 2 years ago and, for whatever reason, I decided he was going to be my friend. He disagrees with how our friendship "went down", but I tell him all the time, he can be wrong if he wants to...its ok. Regardless of the origin, or the organic outgrowth of it all, and the fact that we pretty much disagree about everything, I love him. I really do. As I type this, my brother from an African mother is in the custody of the Immigration Department. So, if you think about it...please pray for him.


Finally, there's Jonathan. (Sigh) My hairy little atheist. When it comes to polar opposites...we be it! Not only is he an atheist (which is kinda wierd because he sorta looks like the popularized version of Jesus), but he is also a liberal and a vegetarian. I was a sophomore in high school the year he was born, so I, quite literally, am old enough to be his momma. That is, of course, if I had slept around in high school...which I didn't. Anyway, I first met him in his dad's cubicle at our office. He was half asleep and didn't even raise his head to say hello. But, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to speak to him every time I saw him in the halls. Sometimes, he would grunt back a reply and then run away. But, after about a year of this, I was feeding him crackers in my lap at lunch time. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration, but we did get very close very fast and, still, I love him like I birthed him. And, my heart breaks when I pray for him.

I can't explain how all of this happens. But it happens sometimes...and I'm so glad it does!

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