Why I Must Get Drunk With You

“You don’t choose your family.  They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.”  ~Desmond Tutu

From about February to July there was a massive amount of work related craziness going on. I think I alluded to it when I mentioned the sudden onset of gray hairs, a departure from sleeping and a sudden interest in Dewar’s. The craziness lead to numerous trips to Washington, DC where I’d arrive at BWI at 8:15 in the morning, sprint through the Cannon Building, then back to BWI for an 8:45 PM flight. The only diverting from that schedule involved stopping to look at the top of the Capitol and whether or not I should jump off of it now or later.

Since I was too busy figuring out the trajectory of my body from the top of a monument – ANY monument – it meant that my friendships with those in my adopted hometown fell to the wayside. That is unless of course your office was either in the Longworth Building or you didn’t mind eating at Bistro Bis everyday for a month. And by eating I mean, damn, that champagne was tasty. Did I mention the stress?

The person I left out most was my dear Amy. I couldn’t make the effort to get to her house and then there would be much suffering and lamenting on the fine art of dealing with Life (see also; affinity for Scotch). And…God…there just wasn’t anytime. And because I am that much of an asshole of a friend, I’d tell everyone on Twitter that I’d be in DC along with some well placed whinging about how hard it is to have to spend an hour between meetings at Anthropologie. Woe is motherfucking, me. Later she would tell me that she read every single one of those tweets and why didn’t I just call her or something? She would have come into the city to meet me. She WANTED to come into the city to meet me.

Now here’s the part where I further emphasize how awful I am as a friend. You do NOT want me to be your friend or even your family. There’s a lot of forgetting, drunk-dialing, crying on the phone, drinking an excessive amount of wine at your two-year-old’s birthday party, and I cannot tell you the number of times I have found out very important information via third-party because I don’t answer my phone. Actually scratch that last part because I could call Susan 19 times in a row to tell her that I’m dying from exsanguination right this very second and she’d finally return the call three days later and be all nonchalant, like really? Your femoral artery? There’s blood there? Huh? What shoes were you wearing before you bled out?

But this is about me and my shittiness as a friend. I suck. The end.

Finally, Amy and I got to hang out to go see Vampire Weekend. We got a little tipsy, we double-fisted shitty beers and she presented me with this gem as she told me how much of a sucktastic friend I am. I am the friend who doesn’t get drunk with her so she had to give me a spreadsheet to tell me why, in fact, I need to get drunk with her.

And I remembered how much I missed her. There have been brief moments of hanging out since then but no one-on-one time like the good old days. We adore each other as much as ever but I’d like to kick back with a few bottles of wine on her couch with Ceiba running around maniacally. The best part about our friendship is that we both can talk the shit out of anything. We also have no problem busting out the red and white wine glasses at 3 PM.

Now this has happened. My Amy is pregnant. Of course the day she told me I was in a foul mood of epic proportions and while sitting in the atrium of the Desmond Hotel I screamed. Very, very loudly. I could go into the more intimate aspects of a friendship you have with someone when they’ve let you into their house, hearts and family. I’m no parent but there has to be some sort of strong bond between you and the first person you would entrust your newborn to, right? She told me to watch her 5 week old and in return I got one of my best friends in the world. The words in my vocabulary to exclaim the elation I have for Amy, Jason, Noah and Ezra are far too few. But as she told me on the phone last week, “You get to me an aunt again!” I couldn’t be happier.