If there is one thing that being pregnant, nauseous and depressed gives you, it's time to think. I spend whole days staring at the walls pondering past events and people. Some of the nostalgia is fun, other parts less so. I spend sleepless hours in the middle of the night writing blog entries, even feeling the keys underneath my fingers, only to forget my perceived-to-be wise words the next morning.Most often, I find myself thinking of people from my past who I am no longer in regular contact with. People who were a big part of my life and then time and circumstance caused them to no longer be so. One person I have thought about a great deal.
I met my friend Bri in my very first year of art school. She was in my computer class and even though it was at 8 in the morning, she talked incessantly. As with all of the people who later became my close friends, I disliked her at the onset. She was young (a good twelve or more years younger than me) and outspoken and didn't seem to care what people thought about her. I can't remember when the tide turned, but I soon found her to be wise beyond her years and a great person to talk to. I can't think of her without the perpetual cup of coffee she had in her hand or the cigarette in the other. We spent countless Friday nights at the local bar drinking and talking with a group of our peers and I remember it as one of the most stimulating times of my life.
I don't talk to Bri much at all since she moved back to Arizona. I am terrible with long distance communication and Bri is definitely one of those people who is better 'in person'. But I think of her often and I remember how smart and funny and what a great writer she is. And I feel nostalgic for a time that is frozen in my mind, but gone. I don't even have a photograph of Bri, but I see her in my mind, with her hair coiled on her head and that big grin shining back. And each morning when I walk to the fridge for milk for my morning coffee, I look at this card she made in school, and I smile.
