ghosts of christmas past: part 1

It was a December day 9 years ago and a twenty-one year old Cami was suffering from the blues.

You know the kind, the holiday blues, girly blues, working part time in a coffee shop what am I doing with my life where am I going what do I want and what the hell was I thinking kind of blues...

I felt like I was out in the world all on my own  and no matter how many friends and beaus I surrounded myself with I was left empty and discontented.

Blue.

That didn't have to be the case, I could have done something to improve the situation but I was 21 and blue... it was better to sulk about it really.

I was working my shift at the Internet cafe I so loved to hang out at when my darling friend came in amidst a bluster of wind and rain.  My heart lifted for a moment because hanging out with Martin didn't just mean a fun time, it meant being with a real person.  A true friend.

Have you had one of those friends that are just a part of your world no matter the time or circumstance.  I could go 20 years without seeing or speaking to him and if I bumped into him at a coffee shop (which I couldn't as he's gone home to England the cheeky bastard) we would easily pick up where we left off.

On this particular day though it hadn't been 20 years.  It may have been a few weeks at the most, but I was always glad to see Martin with his contagious smile.  Though on this day his smile was slightly misplaced.  He was a little flustered.

Why you may ask?

It was Christmas eve, though I think that had little to do with his being flustered, and he had locked himself out of his house.

Oh Bugger.

All of his house mates were away for the holiday season so he was stuck out in the cold, and if I remember the day correctly boy was it ever cold.  Despite the deep chill in the air though when I finished my shift we hopped a bus up to his house and sat outside waiting for the locksmith.

The locksmith eventually came and let him in and I tell you we ducked inside for just a matter of moments before we were off again having decided on a lovely Christmas Eve adventure in downtown Portland.

We went to a couple of shops, bought matching lighters and little character wallets and then arms around each other we skipped off to Jake's for a happy holiday meal.

I don't remember every detail of the night, but I do remember wandering the lobby of the attached hotel in leather pants and a tank top laughing and skipping and feeling like we were on top of the world.  I know the food was incredible and that I must have eaten mashed potatoes (I always do) but I have no recollection of what we ate.  Just the image of the two of us laughing, drinking the most perfect martini I have ever had and sharing a tiny dimly lit table in the historic bar is enough.

We took a taxi home and decided to meet up the next day as well.

Funny, I don't recall what we did on Christmas day, what I do recall is that I got one of the best Christmas gifts I've ever received;  my spirit of holiday joy came back to stay... oh, and then there's that really cool wallet...

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This post written in response to David McMahon's Weekend Wandering.  The question of the week is: What was the best Christmas present you ever received?