Habla much?

Dear Readers,

It is an inevitable fact of life that as you split your time between family, friend groups, work, community activities, Star Trek conventions, and the like, you will generally lose touch with a few dear friends along the way. This is especially likely if, like me, you tend toward attempting to maintain not one but nearly ten friend groups, including but not limited to the Marrieds group; the Singles group; That Other, More Fun But a Bit Too Wild Singles group; the Church group of One Denomination; That Other Church Group of a Different Denomination (in the true spirit of faith, it’s very important these two groups don’t mix, or the world will certainly end); the Coworkers Who You Also Happen to Like As Friends group; and the Fellow Trekkies group (a bunch of nerds whose level of geekiness is so profound you don’t actually acknowledge them if you see them on the street while with any of the aforementioned friend groups). Despite my best intentions, I do occasionally fall victim to friend loss during busy times when I don’t respond to emails or return phone calls with the warp speed my true friendships deserve.

And so it was with pure delight that this morning I ran into a friend from graduate school with whom I had lost touch this past year, save for attending her awesome Sprockettes bicycle dance performance this past October at the Hopworks Biketobeer Fest. This friend is the rare gem who, upon receiving an email from you, responds with a thorough and thoughtful thesis of no less than 5000 words that splashes your thoughts and ideas onto the backdrop of her personal experience and wisdom and paints a resulting picture that never fails to offer insight into your dried-out palate of stuck suppositions and stagnant struggles. A friend whose very being is intelligence, humor, class, and the gracefulness that only a Sprockettes bike dancer can pull off.

It was unfortunate, then, to make this joyous re-acquaintance at a Spanish conversational group, at which speaking English was strictly forbidden. My Spanish-speaking skills—-rusty at best, nonexistent at worst—-made for a definite communication breakdown as I attempted valiently to fill my friend in on the past year of my life, drawing from a mental Spanish dictionary of under ten words. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Friend: (fluent string of complex multisyllabic Spanish words, conjugated into appropriate past and future tense forms)

Me: Hola!

Friend: (same as above, with raised intonation at the culmination of the phrase, in what I can only guess is a polite and probing question into the nature of my existence and activities this past year)

Me: Hola! (But very expressively. So that it conveys much more, I’m quite certain.)

Yet while our communication was fragmented, and my need to improve my Spanish skills was unmistaken, I was reminded today just how pequeno our mundo is. (See how much Spanish I learned today? I’m practically fluent!) 🙂 And how our small world lends itself to renewing friendships that had begun to slip away, after all.

–Troi out

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