A million years ago, my friend Rebecca got married out on Block Island. It was a beautiful autumn weekend. I car-pooled up from New York with my friend Felicia, and two other people, John and Allison. We were the New York contingent. Felicia and I were already friends, we worked together at this crazy start-up job, a job still legendary to those of us who experienced it. Allison and Rebecca were friends, and I had met Allison before at a party – Rebecca was the connection. (The party was at a warehouse apartment in Dumbo, one of those big illegal apartments in industrial spaces you used to be able to do. I can’t remember if this was the party where Liev Schrieber showed up in leather pants and you could feel the pheromonal charisma emanating off of him, it was crazy, girls went insane when he showed up. And he wasn’t a huge star then. People didn’t go crazy because he was a celebrity. People went crazy because he had “it”, you could feel it. I think he might have been doing Hamlet at the Public at the time, or something like that. It might have been another party where Liev showed up. New York in the late 90s was a magical time. Never to be repeated.) Allison and I took the subway home from that party and had a long serious conversation about religion. We were on the subway and it was like 2 in the morning and we were discussing religion. We didn’t know each other at all so the ease of conversation and the depth was a good sign. But this experience didn’t transform into a friendship. What transformed us into a friendship with a capital F was the weekend on Block Island. First of all, the four of us – me, Felicia, Allison and John – had this whole separate adventure, bonding us together, on a road trip, rooming with each other in one of the old hotels on Block Island. John was in heaven, chilling out with three crazy vivacious women for a whole weekend. We kept teasing him by talking about girl stuff, like periods and pap smears. He’d be like, “Okay, okay, please stop it …” It was magic, the way the four of us just gelled together. It was like we had known each other for years. At one point we were at a bar and Allison and I were doing goofy interpretive dances, like we were 11 years old. There was no turning back after that. I can’t imagine my life without her. I don’t have many pictures of that weekend, but someone was taking Polaroids. There’s me – my sister-in-law Maria is behind me (baby Cashel was at the wedding too!) – and then the other three members of the Fabulous Four, John, Allison and Felicia. It’s wild to look at this, knowing how close Allison and I would become. Like, forever friends. Here we are at the very beginning.
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Sheila, I am just seeing this and it brought tears to my eyes. God that was a special time to be THAT age in New York. And that magical weekend will go down as one of the best, if not THE best, weekends in my life. I treasure our deep, hilarious, weird-in-the-same-exact-ways, totally unique friendship. You are family to me. Love you so much friend!!
p.s. poor John. Do you remember when, at some point on our trip up when we pulled over at a gas station because he had to go to the bathroom? And as he got out of the car and was walking to the gas station bathroom, I rolled down the window and yelled out loud, “hey John…” he turned around quizzically…did we we want him to get some corn nuts and can of pop from the mini Mart or something? And I yell, “is it number one or number two?” I actually ended up sharing a room with him, and in spite of us making him squirm, he was nice enough to zip up my dress.
hahahaha We tormented him! and him zipping up your dress is such a heart-crack!
and definitely NY in the late 90s – we had no idea what was about to end, you know what I mean? it was such a TIME, I can still almost FEEL it. and nobody had phones – that’s what’s amazing to me. like, all of this was going on without the constant presence of … the WORLD on our phone. it just was different – and it’s hard to describe to people who just have never known a world without the constant presence of everything else going on besides the moment you’re in. Have you read Chuck Klosterman’s The Nineties? He really captures it.
Love you so much!!
Oh and how could I not have mentioned that that Block Island weekend was when I got the stigmata.