In January I met a new friend. It doesn't happen often, as I've mentioned in a past entry or two I believe. There was a day in late January or early February, i can't recall, and she was sitting in my apartment. It was the second time I attempted Chicken Marsala. Aside from pancakes, moronically easy shake & bake and various baked goods, it was the first meal I attempted to actually make at that point. Actual ingredients, preparation, as well as sides; I even had wine, the whole nine.
I never offered the wine, as it wasn't appropriate, but it was the second time I had made an effort to make anything, thankfully it was the same dish so I had one chance before to work out the mistakes. I still made them and took longer than I wanted, but she seemed to like it. I know for sure after my incessant downplaying of it; she insisted it was in fact good. We watched movie, and talked about the political race that was heating up for the end of 2016. We had a good time.
She returned home where she was from across continents and time zones and is currently at an internship at the UN in Geneva. She is literally sitting in the Human Rights Room with the colorful, stalactite ceiling gives a bright and inspiring feeling over a room that I'm sure at times is anything but. But I won't even pretend and begin to act like I know of what really goes on there. What I DO know, is that she is representing her country there. She is SITTING, behind the seat. One of 754. Most of which are purposed for our world's diplomats, leaders and representatives, as well as chair members and press and guests I could only guess without doing a terrible amount of research. But you get the idea.
She is in arguably one of the most important rooms in the entire world. Not Geneva, not Switzerland,not Europe, the World. Perhaps that is up to opinion. I could say my bedroom is the most important room in the entire world. Everyone's world is different I suppose. But in terms of the world, and the decisions we make as a race, that room I would say, is the most important.
My friend spoke publicly for the first time to read a speech on rights for the disabled. Her mascara sometimes hurts her eyes and she actually began tearing up through the speech. Imagine talking in front of the world, for the very first time, and you begin to tear up as if you were crying? It takes a certain kind of person to take it in stride. She did so with elegance and humor. It was streamed later, where I could see. Thankfully as politics go, they're better at focusing on matters of importance rather than the spotlight sometimes, (not all the time) but the feed was not uploaded in a very high resolution, so I could not see actual tears, but I noticed her wiping her eye once or twice because I knew what to look for. What a story to have.
Selfishly, I have a better story. Because that story is contained within mine. The day she made that speech, I was on the road, living out of the back of a minivan, my own. Sleeping, eating, bathing (to some extent) and existing out of it. It was a mere 20° F (-7° C) most nights and we froze. In the back Walmart parking lots, there was one night the wind kept us up and the rain came down so hard we thought for sure a tree would fall on us, or a leak would start near our heads, or there was an emergency in place. I was living like a bum, literally. I WAS a bum, I guess I am one in many ways. But on this trip, as we migrated from city to city, state upon state upon state, I was driving along and burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, not forced, through cause of my own thoughts which does not happen often. Usually a laugh is only caused by something external, an event or someone telling a joke. But this was simply through thought. Very rare.
My friend who was with me asked what it was I was laughing at and I told him. A person who was sitting in my apartment, giving me their time only a few weeks before, was now sitting among the world's leaders at the U.N. in Geneva. How insane is that?! I was hanging out with them!
That was the initial story. Now it has grown. Not only was she spending some of her time with me, and was actually in my apartment, but I realize after with hindsight, how humorously and completely opposite we were at that moment. At the exact time she was speaking on camera in front of important representatives of countries about a very important topic, an absolute pinnacle, clearly an achievement for her in life and career. At the time she was doing something so diplomatic and influential for the world, literally in some history book (albeit not a common one, but still somewhere in some document forevermore) now, I was living in a fucking van being homeless. I was wearing a hat to cover up my greasy head from lack of showering and making mac & cheese on a camp stove under a bunch of pine trees in a parking lot. When she was furthering the human race for good, I was eating a few donuts that I bought for $2 because they were expiring that day followed by brushing my teeth in a public bathroom in the store while people looked at us. Still dressed my best though by the way.
How insane is that? I am living out a van, and she is talking before the U.N. and the world. So with that story, I can also tell how we hung out weeks earlier, and that her mascara made her tear up during her speech. If you had asked me at the entrance of 2016 if I knew any of that would happen, well at this point in life I would actually believe you. So many things have changed so quickly in my life that I never thought would happen that I'd believe anything.
But no one can deny that is one hell of a story.