Barb

I spent this past weekend with Barb who is my best friend in the whole entire universe. I don't know how to begin to define Barb or the friendship that we have, but I'm going to try.

Barb is.... funny. Fucking funny. No one can make me laugh the way she does. We laugh on the phone, at my house, at her house, when one of us is crying, at the mall, out for dinner. You get the idea -- it's pretty much non-stop. My abs hurt everytime I'm with her and somehow, after 23 years of friendship, we don't seem to run out of material.

I met Barb in the summer of 1985 when I went to write my college entrance exams. My Aunt Gay (you will learn about her in an upcoming blog post....) drove me the 3 hours to Calgary and I was fairly terrified. I was only 17 and didn't know a soul at Mount Royal College. After my exams, Aunt Gay and I went to 'The Soup Kettle' to have some lunch. She noticed Barb and told me that she recognized her from the exam room and why didn't I go say hello to her? My eyes almost bugged out of my head. Barb was scary. She was the kind of girl who lipped off teachers, who broke curfew, who SMOKED. In public. I was the kind of girl who was the President of the Student Council, always made it home 5 minutes before curfew and smoked, but only covertly. I didn't want to ruin my wholesome reputation, after all. (This was early evidence of the rebel who lived under that Catholic girl facade....).

That fateful day, I was dressed in nicely pressed blue jeans, a blouse buttoned up conservatively, pink pumps and a ribbon in my hair. No, I'm not kidding. Barb, on the other hand was wearing very tight jeans with high top runners, a t-shirt and jean jacket (cordouroy collar, flipped up, no less) with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and a mean squint in her eyes. My Aunt Gay nudged me until I went over to say hello. (Thank you, thank you, thank you Aunt Gay). I don't remember what I said or how the conversation went, but it was the beginning of this amazing friendship.

I am 100% convinced that one of the main reasons I'm strong and capable (and alive) today is because Barb took me under her wing. When I went to college, I was incredibly naive and trusting. I had been raised in a very sheltered manner and Barb saved me from many scary situations and taught me to be street wise. If we were being harrassed by guys in a bar, I would smile and endure it. She would tell them to "Fuck Off!" in no uncertain terms. I was awestruck. She was also very charming and used her natural charisma to get our needs met. I always accepted my course schedule just the way it was handed to me. Barb, not so much. One time, she made me go with her to talk to our faculty adviser so that she could explain that it was impossible for us to have a 9:00 a.m. class on Friday mornings because Thursday night was ladies night at 'The Longhorn' saloon. They changed our class for us. Again, I was awestruck.

Barb is kind. Everyone around her feels accepted and embraced when they are with her. The home she has created is likely the most welcoming, warm place I've ever been. She has a knack for creating spaces throughout her house and yard that make you want to sit and visit and laugh, and people do exactly that. All the time. Anytime I'm there to visit, friends are constantly popping by to say hello and they are always made to feel welcome. This summer, she had 22 people staying there for the August long weekend. She loved every minute of it.

Barb's house is also the place where I go to lick my wounds. When life becomes 'all too much' or I'm going through something difficult, that is where I go. I know that I can stay in my jammies the entire time, crying on the couch if I need too. She knows just what to do and say to support me. She knows when to bring the kleenex, pour the paralyzer, hug me, tell me to suck it up, or make me laugh. She just knows.

This past weekend was one of complete rest and relaxation for me. We watched season 2 of 'Dexter'. We went for a 6 kilometer walk. We drank paralyzers. We slept in her king sized bed with the new fleece sheets. (Fleece!). I made chicken and rice wraps for Sara (Barb's daughter) because it's one of the things I do when I'm there. Jacob (Barb's son) gave me a hug that melted my heart the minute I arrived. We watched 'Wrong Turn 2' and screamed and laughed. Last night at 3:00 a.m., Sara came down to where we were sleeping to tell us that we were laughing too loud which just made us laugh harder. She walked away with a smile, shaking her head at us.

If I could make one wish for Sara, it would be for her to be lucky enough in life to find a friendship like the one I have with her mother.

(Thanks for the fantastic weekend, Barb! Mwah!)

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Update: In true Barb fashion, she made me laugh my head off when I chatted with her about this blog post. She told me that she now knows what her Eulogy will sound like and that she felt like she should be eating a ham and pickle sandwich (the kind you ONLY get at a funeral tea). She also pointed out that she did not have a cigarette hanging out of her mouth at the Soup Kettle and I'm pretty sure she's right. She just didn't sound scary enough without it. I pointed out that this is my blog and I am allowed a bit of artistic license. She said that I was just like James Frey (of 'A Million Little Pieces' fame) and that she was going to report me to Oprah. Do you see why I love her???