This is my friend Cold Mountain.
He’s called Cold Mountain because at first glance, he appears to have an icy demeanor. This is unfortunate, because he’s not icy at all – he’s one of my favorite weirdos on the planet and I love him to pieces. (Is it emasculating to say that about a man? I don’t know. And I don’t care.) Because he is so near and dear to my heart, I could feel bad about continuing to call him such a terrible name despite knowing it’s not rooted in reality. However, in college, when high-dose hormonal birth control made me the Incredibly Ballooning Girl, he called me “Chesty Morgan” because my boobs get super huge, so he’s earned it.
Cold Mountain was one of the first people I met in college, as he lived on my dorm floor and had the misfortune of opening his dorm room door to me and some other wackjobs as we ran through the halls, obnoxiously knocking on doors and trying to meet as many people as possible. He ended up being one of the only true friends I gleaned from the whirlwind insanity of my undergraduate career. We lived together our third year (and technically our fourth, although by then, I was shacked up with The Husband most of the time), and CM helped my husband get me back to the apartment building so that Husband could propose.
CM is getting his PhD in brains and does a lot of horrible research on rats, which he likes to tell me all about over dinners. For a while, I thought I could return the favor by telling him stories about removing the femurs from dead people. He, like the regular cold mountain he is, remained unfazed. Of course.
We live in the same city and yet can go months without seeing each other. He’s busy being a genius and I’m busy braiding color-coordinated yarn holiday headbands for preschoolers. This used to make me upset and I felt hugely guilty about it, until I realized that it is in these absences that I get to see how solid our friendship is. If you can go months without speaking and pick up exactly where you left off, it’s the real deal.
I don’t have a crafty ending to this post. There’s nothing super funny or weird or stupid about this. The simple truth is that I just received an email reply from Cold Mountain and got so excited to see his email address in my inbox, and then was immediately grateful to have someone in my life who inspires so much glee.
I love you, CM. Spumoni soon.