S. came down at 10 yesterday morning, in her chic and outgoing glory. First we bitched with the taxi driver about the ludicrous price (S: "But you must admit that there is a huge discrepancy between 20 dollars and 30 dollars") We went to my classes, and though there were a couple shitty classes, I was sure she arrived on time so she could come to my favorites, AP Art History and AP Euro. She was awed, and I was gratified, by the friendly intelligence and ridiculously well-spoken qualities of the girls in my classes, and how insightful, dynamic, and in-depth my two wonderrrrful, wonderful teachers were.
Thankfully, I didn't have any after-school commitments, so it was perfect - we went to Starbucks, spontaneously decided to get manicures afterwards (which were $12 and exceedingly shady, as the color of our nails changed several times over the course of the day) and hopped on a bus to see Clash of the Titans.
Oh, Sam Worthington. Adorable, with some pretty badass line delivery "Don't look the bitch in the eye!" with a few occasional cringe-worthy moments according to S, who claims that he could not yell adequately in despair (she had this problem for Avatar too). And Clash of the Titans was the perfect antidote to two restless, stressed teenagers - dumb, but entirely enjoyable with a few true WTF moments (the owl, anyone?) which the director must have known was comedy gold to teenagers. Sam Worthington may not have much of a personality, but for a Russell Crowe 2.0, he's sufficiently entertaining. S. burst out laughing at the most random moments, and I was overjoyed to see people get hurled into rock walls, as it's always a failproof source of mirth to me.
Afterwards we took out appetizers from the Cheesecake Factory - nachos and guacamole, macaroni, fried potstickers - sinfully indulgent and delicious - rambled around Barnes and Noble, and took a taxi back to the dorm where we talked (mostly me, about the girls I knew), tried on catwalk-worthy ensembles, and fell asleep around 3 AM to the drifting sounds of Death Cab For Cutie and Ben Whishaw reciting "Ode to a Nightingale".
But the best, best part, I have to say, were our conversations. Some parts were silly (S couldn't get over the way Io "died" in Clash of the Titans. Btw, Gemma Arterton was annoying as hell and I wish Sam Worthington got it on with the princess instead. There was more sexual chemistry with the two of them lying unconscious on the beach, fingers entwined, then the cliche "accidentally pin the female down in a semi-aggresive, sexual stance" moment between Perseus and Io". But I digress. We laughed hysterically throughout the day, and we talked seriously.
As the years go by, (and we see each other less and less) our conversations just get better. It never got more personal-geeky than it did yesterday. We talked about the implications of Salinger's short story "A Perfect Day for Bananafish". We analyzed the differences between the hyper-competitive, stockbroker-breeding-ground environment of our home town and the philosophical, laidback quality of my high school. We discussed our own qualities (we both admitted that we'd been raised to be "casually dishonest") and how rare it was to find a friend with both principles and personality, amid the bitchy backstabbery of the world. We discussed the paranoid-logical nature of our family (I theorized that an ancestor of ours had been majorly screwed over and that was why our family trusted no one, not even their best friends), college, fashion, New York, New Haven, college again, favorite books, the impeccably classy Emma Watson, Grand Tours (what filthily rich people in the Victorian times did - go abroad for three to four years, drifting casually from Paris to Switzerland to Rome for months at a time), the classiness of my teachers Mrs. M and Mrs. Q, of what it meant to be classy - I, for one, noted how charismatic and intimidating Mrs. M was, in spite her indifference to fashion and general boxcar-hobo appearance - and so much more.
By some alignment of the weather gods, the temperature did not drop below 70 for both Friday and Saturday. No clouds, no wind. We got up before noon on Saturday, ate waffles, threw bacon to squirrels. We weren't quite as chatty as the day before, but it felt comfortable. We merely strolled, sat on a swing bench, observed the squash courts and flooded river, and afterwards,, I sent her off to a taxi. It was a beautiful day and I walked back to my dorm with a dread for the work ahead of me and with a lump in my throat.
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