By Beauty Damned

Best Friends Forever

Kat and I went to the ice skating rink in Central Park tonight after work. We met at Cassidy's and had a drink right across the street from my old job before heading up the block to the park. It felt odd to be in that neighborhood where I used to work, since I rarely go there, even though it's really only several blocks from where I work now. That was where my life in New York began, and so many memories of that beginning came rushing back to me when we were there tonight. My first job in NY. The big LOVE sculpture on the corner. The Ziegfeld Theatre. Klein's Deli. I met my boyfriend there in front of 1350 Avenue of the Americas more than three years ago. So much happened there in that neighborhood in midtown. The familiarity of it all felt strangely overwhelming. Sometimes all it takes is being back in a certain place to make you reflect on the time that has passed since the last time you were there and all of the memories that you keep of that place.

We walked down through the park to the rink, and when we got there I noticed that Donald Trump's name was everywhere. I guess he has owned Wollman Rink for a long time, but his name wasn't quite as visible until he got his TV show I guess. I never noticed it when I've been there in the past. They have taken every last scrap of Wollman Rink merchandise out of the gift shop and replaced it all with Donald Trump merchandise. They had Donald Trump dolls. They had t-shirts, sweaters, hats and mugs that said "You're Fired" on them. Even the rental skates had "Trump" scribbled on the bottoms. That was kind of annoying. That everywhere you looked you had to see his face or his name. The Donald. What a creepy character that guy is. But shit, it's the only ice skating rink in NYC really worth going to so what are you going to do?

The weather was perfect for skating. Unfortunately, it was foggy so the view was not as spectacular as when it's clear, but it was probably the clouds that were keeping us warm on the ice. Kathleen is an amazing ice skater. She competed professionally for about eight years before I met her, and watching her has always been mesmerizing to me. She drifts on the ice as if she has wings. It's effortless. Every agile little step, her figure eights, her spins, her jumps, it's all smooth and artful. I always feel proud to be skating with her.

She's so nice to me. As long as I've known her, when we skate together she tells me what a great skater I am. But I just laugh and feel ridiculous because compared to the grace and ease with which she skates I feel like a fumbler. Other people on the ice stop to watch her as she takes a leap or twirls like a top until you can't imagine how her head must be spinning inside. It's a special occasion when we skate together.

Kathleen and I met in Oregon when we were teenagers and quickly discovered that we'd both grown up in California. Her mother actually briefly lived in the same apartment building in Brentwood that I lived in as a child. Another thing we found out we had in common was that we'd both skated in the same ice skating rink in Culver City. My admiration of her talent and skill for skating, and our mutual love of the sport itself, has always been a tight thread in our bond as friends. I'm really glad we went together tonight.

We rode the F[uck] train home and talked about what good (and bad) books we were reading lately and whatever else was on our minds. The time always seems to fly by when I am looking into her face and we are sharing thoughts without deliberating a moment.

Kathleen and I were inseparable as teenagers and we really went our separate ways after highschool, but always stayed closely in touch through the years. The fact that both of us live in NY now is partly just incredible luck, and partly really auspicious planning. But it's the best thing I could ever imagine and at least meets if not exceeds the expectations that we had as teens of being close friends all the way into our adulthood. Sometimes you say things and they don't really turn out. And sometimes you say that one day you're going to float to Australia together in a sailboat and you end up instead in New York City.

Last night I went over to her house and she made us dinner and we listened to the Tex and the Horseheads "Life's So Cool" album that my dad gave me for Christmas. It felt funny to take a cab over to her place with the vinyl album tucked under my arm the whole time, feeling anticipation. And then to listen to it excitedly on the record player while sipping glasses of pink wine and talking whatever shit came to mind. No one has record players anymore. Kathleen does. That album is a classic from when I was growing up and it was really special that my dad gave it to me. I haven't listened to it in at least ten years and it was so great. Just as good as I'd remembered it. We listened to the whole album twice. Kathleen is one of the few people who will share in my excitement about things like that. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without that girl...(that's her with me up there in the blog header).

If you've never listened to Tex and the Horseheads, happen to enjoy punk music, and have access to an obscure selection, I would strongly suggest giving it a listen. A good soundtrack for a great time.

Posted by Maria at January 12, 2005 11:15 PM | TrackBack