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4.16.2013

POTATOES ARE CARBOHYDRATES? what!!!


I sat with a dear friend last night.  It would be our last hooray in the physical kind of way for some time to come.  I was moving 1800 miles away across the country.  She was staying put here in the place she grew up in - where she had always been all 52 years of her life.  I, on the other hand, was setting out on a whirlwind life changing adventure once again. 

Disclaimer:  This is not her, or her cleavage!
She would say hers is waayyy better!
The necklace though is a close
replica of many she wears.

Her and I are wired somewhat different.  And yet, there are strings in us that are connectively same and familiar.  She is a recovering Mennonite and me, a liberated 2.5 steps up from there.  She has far more patience than do I.  I have far more speak my mind right out loudishness in a single breath than she would have in a lifetime.  She is overly organized and anal, likes big jewelry, has large breasts and boasts of tons of cleavage on any given day, doesn't fully comprehend the healthy food pyramid and drinks Miller Lite.


I do equally well at planning but find greater freedom though at times with a measure of winging it.  Big, shiny anything, let alone jewelry, is not my cup of tea, nor do I have the boobs or cleavage to fully highlight that sort of gaudiness.  A lover of all things healthy food and body-wise, knowing a potato is a carbohydrate no matter how it is prepared is like breathing to me.  I would not drink a beer, but rather a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon or possibly vodka with a splash of cranberry.

We share though this deep vein of parallel living - the belief that there can be imperfect, even hard things in our lives, and in-process things in ourselves while simultaneously finding joy, laughter, nixxieness, realness and still loving God deeply.  She lets me totally be who I am without condemnation, judging, or preaching.  She meets me exactly where I best abide as Nancy, fans it fully into flame and then jumps up and down when I get there.

On the crux of another wild adventure in a few days, she sat with me in the restaurant - her with a Miller Lite, me with a glass of Cab.  Her with cleavage.  Me with none.  Her declaring after the meal did I notice she didn't eat her bun because it was a carbohydrate and she was trying to be good.  Me responding with, "Well, you do know French fries are potatoes.  And potatoes are carbohydrates, and you ate them all!"

There are a handful of people God brings to us over the course of our lifetimes.  She is one of those rare finds of true friendship, camaraderie, all out want the best for me, matched wit and intelligence with a big dose of junior highish hijinks rolled into one. 

For old times sake, I wrote some words of wisdom on the corner of the table paper (a practice I have done with her over the years while thinking some great thoughts she brings out in me while in her presence!) and tore it off to her pure delight and laughter.  Many blog post ideas early on in this blog came by conversations and meals at restaurants with her.  She brings out the creativity in me - it's part of her fanning the Nancy flame into full light.
She makes me better, and I would like to think, I make her better too.
    

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