Why do I call Monica "Ellie"? First of all, it rhymes with "smelly" and who can argue with that in middle school? Of course, my name rhymes with the unfortunate "queasy", "cheesy", "easy", and "sleazy", so don't feel too bad for her. Seriously though, in the adolescent quest for cute, my friends Alicia and Monica Elaine picked the nicknames Allie and Ellie. Oh, how I wished my middle name was Olivia or Iliana! I don't know where Allie is these days, but I think it is fitting that Ellie gets the final blog, seeing as she is my oldest friend.
Ellie played violin in orchestra and danced in ballet. We were in all the same gifted classes. We both liked jean jackets, perms, swimming, and boys. Many a foot fell asleep sitting cross-legged under her Ouija board. Her mom called me "hija". Ellie and I did a lot of laughing and crying together. Our era of sleepovers is the last time I remember carefree childhood. We always had someone to eat lunch with. We had great secrets and inside jokes. We had major crushes that we discussed endlessly. We could have fun doing anything.
A typical sleepover at Ellie's consisted of an afternoon of bike riding, nail painting, hair-doing, gossip, a movie rental/Saturday Night Live, and surrender to sleep. The next day, we would start with potatoes and eggs in a tortilla with garlic salt, salt, and pepper (I am salivating, currently). We would then walk to the Ladera Theater to see a movie or go swimming at the Y or loiter at the nearest Walgreens. I liked Days and Ellie liked All My Children (both of which aired at 11am on rival networks), and unable to compromise, mid-morning TV was really out of the question. The only thing I don't remember is a single quiet moment. We could analyze, deliberate, and pontificate upon any subject ad infinitum.
The start of high school marked the end of our era. Ellie went to West Mesa, and I went to Highland. They were just so darn far away. We still made time to see each other, but it wasn't the same. Then college rolled around, and we simply lost touch. No hard feelings, it was just kinda over. My whole life, I have been guilty of this out-of-sight-out-of-mind projection thing. When people are out of my sight, I figure I am out of their mind. I got a wedding invite from Ellie when I was working for my mom one summer, at the end of my college stint. Feeling responsible for our distance, I resisted attending. Besides, after all the years and miles, I assumed she wouldn't recognize me anyway. My social anxiety convinced me that attending the wedding would only lead to awkwardness--she invited me because she had to. My mom pushed me to go, though. Remembering all the daydreams Ellie and I had about falling in love with with the perfect man, what our weddings would be like, having our kids grow up like cousins, I relented.
I didn't RSVP, and I made mom sit with me in the back. The church was packed with hundreds of relatives and friends. The happiness of this wonderful ceremony was buzzing. Before the happy couple entered the room, the priest got everyone's attention. He welcomed us and asked that we turn to our left and our right, and greet the people sitting next to us. Mom was on my right, thankfully, then I turned left. A vaguely familiar woman lit up when I turned to her. She introduced herself as the aunt of the bride, and I stammered, "I'm Ell--Monica's friend from middle school."
The woman nodded, told me she remembered what good friends we were, and expressed how happy Ellie would be that I was there. She even remembered my name. I thought it was a fluke. Then the mariachis started. The congregation stood up. Ellie, led by her mom and dad, began walking down the aisle. She looked beautiful and composed as she entered the church. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed her eyes found me before anyone else. I felt a flood of emotion, and we both burst into tears. There was Ellie, my dear friend, like no time had lapsed. She looked just the same. Some bonds you can never break.
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