I have this friend, we’ll call her Chimay (she likes Belgian beer). Chimay and I met in London back in 2002, where we were both in the same study abroad program. We didn’t become friends, however, until we were back home in the states. While abroad she was too busy doing drugs and hitting the clubs and I was too busy shopping and chasing after a very unavailable guy in our program.
Back home she ended up at my house for Thanksgiving. I really can’t remember what chain of events led to this. We had friends in common, and at some point, we fell in love.
Chimay is weird, and she wouldn’t mind me telling you so. Because she knows anyone worth knowing likes weird people. She’s also really beautiful, funny as shit and has awesome taste in music. We’re unlikely friends, but we’re soulmates.
We always seemed to want to do the same things at the same time. Stay in with frozen pizza, bagged salad, cheap wine and John Waters movies? Done. Buy stacks of magazines to read at the Hard Rock bar while drinking lemon drops and eating potato skins? Of course! Score some blow and go to our favorite club? Need you ask?
Chimay moved to Arizona a few years ago and I’ve been pissed at her ever since. We don’t see each other nearly enough, although we talk about it a lot. We go for months without speaking when I will receive a text that says, “I miss you, call me you fucking whore.”
I’m dedicating this post to her, because I love her dearly and miss her terribly. She’s a writer and I am hoping I can manipulate her into contributing to this blog someday soon.
So, I will leave you this this song, which I’ve caught her dancing to in front of her mirror more than once.