“I have a parasite. In a manner of speaking.”
I’m the only one who would have known that means, “I’m pregnant.”
Because it was my best friend talking, and she knew I would know. (It’s a quote from our favorite show, she’s not a cold and unfeeling person). She uses this expression sometimes, to describe our friendship. “We’re joined at the brain.”
And she’s probably the only person who would not be offended by me choosing to call the child “baby wolf.” I’ll only do it until I know what the name is. And probably for the rest of its life. My role in his/her life as “that’s just your mother’s crazy friend” was decided long ago.
Long ago, when we had only met a few times and decided to be roommates in college. My first impression of her was all wrong. She wore some glittery gold pants, and I thought for sure her personality was going to be really loud and the opposite of mine. But she seemed nice enough to live with. I later learned those were her “rock star pants.” And if someone ever designates an article of clothing as their “rock star” clothing, you can pretty much guarantee they do not have the stereotypical personality of a rock star. No heroine shooting or drunken late nights to see here, folks!
I can’t say that we have everything in common. I can’t write amazing jazz music like she can. I prefer my water to be really cold, and she likes it room temperature. She liked to jump off the apartment roof, and I never really did.
But I think we’re such good friends because we somehow shared everything anyway, and still do.
If she wanted to stay up late knitting past our bedtime, while watching weird things on local television, we did that. (Which, I believe, is where our “If it’s past 10pm, we’re either asleep or crazy” expression came from). If we had to make the trek from our apartment to the music building on the coldest night in the history of creation, we could scream and whine the entire way, together. If I wanted to stand on a chair and rap before going to sleep, she allowed me the time and space. No questions asked. If everyone we know goes bowling, we both find it completely acceptable to stand in the back of the alley and just watch everybody else. People watching. An art perfected by she and I.
But we get out. We do stuff. Sometimes we pull epic pranks. We don’t know how to pull any other kind of prank. There always has to be some kind of thievery, ransom, and defilement of foreign flags involved. Another story, for another time. Let’s just say our friends will never look at Easter grass the same way.
It’s nice sharing a brain. And everything else.
I can’t decide if I want Baby Wolf to be more like his/her Mom (easy-going, smiley, cheerful), or more like his/her Dad (prone to ranting, and refuses to abide by the most widely accepted rules of Monopoly even after vehement protesting from those around him). A blend of the two shall be interesting, indeed!
Here are more pictures I found that make me laugh. Me and my amaaaazing college roommates. We took these before Ashley’s wedding. I shouldn’t give this away, but they were 100% staged.