Lil' Kim

When I worked at the Salon Spa, a girl I had gone to elementary, junior high, and high school with came on board. I remembered her from 6th grade. The cute, quiet "new" girl. But, our junior high and high schools were so large... that was the last I had remembered seeing her. Even living in the same town, I never crossed paths with Kim, until then.

We quickly became fascinated at how we never really saw each other. Inquired about a few classmates, and bitched about the snobs. Laughed about our obnoxious 80's hair, and not being old enough to "couple skate" at the roller rink. Swiftly we bonded.

Kim worked the evenings as she has three children. I began to look forward to her 5 o'clock arrival, and she began coming in early so we could chat. We shared many profound conversations on the fire escape at break time. I felt cheated that we had not been allowed the pleasure of knowing each other years passed.

I could write a short novel on how impressive Kim is. How genuine. Kind. Giving. Loving. HILARIOUS!!! And raw. Honest. Dependable. Hard working and true.

Kim was my rock when I got unjustifiably axed from my job. She was the first, and only, one to call. She immediately directed me regarding what to do, and who to call. Kim was sincerely, passionately, upset that I was let go. She even bore witness to my ex employer's attempt to get my unemployment denied from false allegations.

Kim and I were on the phone tonight from 11:00 p.m. until 3:04 a.m. Sharing our qualms with the electric company, our coworkers (ex for me), our dysfunctional families. We both discussed how we went "a little nuts" after 9/11. She kept crying and watched the footage obsessively. I, fearing living through war and watching suffering and senseless death, quickly became depressed... and dropped out of college two weeks prior to the end of the semester... despite having a 4.0 grade average. We talked about depression. Not showering for days. Crying over the T.V. Her dad's fight with cancer. My brother's battle with drugs. Her battle with drugs. Her alcoholic mother... and bitter, detached sister. My emotionally and physically unavailable mother. Growing up poor. Family and friendship means more than money every can or will. We listened. We talked. We communicated... and laughed.

Right after I got off the phone with her... I discovered she had sent me a beautiful email, and I almost cried! What a true and amazing friend I have been blessed with.