Every woman has her entourage, posse, girlfriends/guy friends, chosen family, homies, besties or whatever you may call them. They are those who provide many of life’s essentials, playing various and vital roles in a girl’s life and are pivotal to help one survive and navigate all types of relationships. I would be infinitely lost without these lovely assholes in my life.
We’ve spent years talking, laughing, crying, travelling, partying, hacking butts, smoking joints and drinking copious amounts of booze.
I’ve made it a habit to text at least three or four of them when I am about to head out into new man territory. I send them photos and locations. I also let them know if and when I’ve made it home.
They are the beautiful, brave; loving; perpetually supportive; sometimes twisted; at times a tad judgmental; ever so brilliant; magnificently forgiving and wholeheartedly generous beasts, who love me unconditionally for who I am.
My Ride or Dies, who I am so thankful for; the ones who bless my heart, replenish my soul, who don’t give or take any bullshit, and make me laugh my fucking ass off, are the true loves of my life.
They are The Voice and Heart I need when I can’t hear, or refuse to listen to, my own.
Here are the key players.
Mom – Hero. Beauty. Class. Courage. Generosity. The biggest (and daintiest) badass I’ve ever known. She has gone through the most bullshit and disappointment than any woman I’ve ever met. Mom gets her own shout-out later…
Kunk – The American cousin. Our dads are bros. The biggest ball of energy I’ve ever met (next to yours truly). The baby sister I always wanted. My California connection. The girl that makes me pee a little every time we laugh. She loves anime and is superb at playing video games. Her loud, raspy voice and big, beautiful, wavy hair make her stand out from the crowd. Even though she lived in the US , we managed to see each other almost every Christmas and summer growing up. As an adult, I try to visit her every couple of years. I am the fairy godmother to her adorable son. Her husband is very kind, funny and patient. Even though she is one of the smartest and motivated women I know, she can also be the fucking laziest. We don’t speak to or see each other often, but when we do, we take it exactly from where we left off; without skipping a beat. I love her so much!
Queen B – My cousin. Not blood related. Our dads are super tight. The ex-party girl. Proponent of the Law of Attraction. The big sis I never knew I wanted and am so thankful for. The one who gave me “the talk”. She took 15-year-old me to my first pap smear and to get my first set of birth control pills. We partied a ton together – the most memorable being Montreal and Las Vegas. During one night of partying, I was so fucked up that she ordered me to throw up; that this would be the only way to feel better. I wasn’t listening and could you believe she threatened to shove her fingers down my fucking throat if I didn’t do it myself?! I proceeded to do it myself. She is always my voice of reason. The amount of conversations we’ve had about life and relationships span over decades. She’s taken good care of me, acted as my protector. She motivates me to do bigger and better things. I don’t know where the fuck I’d be without her.
Cheese – My cousin. Again, not by blood. My sister from another mother. Her temperament is very chill. She is tall and gorgeous. She has a big heart and gives the best hugs. Her love of chronic and drinking brings us together frequently. We grew up together, spending most of our time at the mall and Canada’s Wonderland being hit on by boys. She always looked more mature than I did, so most of the older hotties would go for her first. We’d send each other letters in the mail and talk on the phone for hours! We drifted apart in our early twenties but reconnected about ten years ago. I love our one-on-one time. We crack each other up and still talk for hours. She always gives me great advice and makes me realize shit about myself that I sometimes am not aware of. I love polishing off bottles of wine with her in the backyard while we go through cigarettes like a bag of chips.
The Besties – J and Miss D – Who knew that working at the mall would gift me two best friends. We met back in 2004. At first, we’d just party at the bars and clubs. Eventually that grew to frequent girls’ nights that involved dancing, singing, getting shitfaced, laughing until we cry and talking about our men de jour (except J, she married her high school sweetheart). I’ve spent a majority of the last 15 years with them. These girls have been through it all with me. What they mean to me and the fun we’ve had together is indescribable. I couldn’t imagine my life without them. Let’s get into a few specifics:
J – Famous for her awkward tendencies. Hot-ass MILF. Thoughtful, loving, fucking hilarious and motivating. She’s a beauty and a knockout cook and baker. She is a fantastic wife and mom to two gorgeous kids. She is terrible at returning text messages and phone calls. Lives your typical suburban nuclear family life, but she works hard and plays hard. Before marriage and babies, we’d start at the pub at 3pm, kill two or three pitchers of beer and walk home together. She is the most sentimental gift giver ever. She makes me cry every goddamn time.
Miss D – Fabulous bestie. Bubbly, beautiful, kind and hilarious. We talk almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day. If there’s someone I need in a pinch, she is the one I know I can call. She taught me how to appreciate good wine, champagne and cheese. She cooks like a mother fucker; one of those people that has a knack for throwing shit together that’s laying in the fridge and cupboard. She is passionate about the things she loves and wears her heart on her sleeve. She has a big heart and a kind and generous spirit.
Kol – We became close the summer before we were both hired full time. Hanging out with her and her family is really good times. I spend fall and winter nights in her basement watching hockey and basketball. Summer days are spent on her boat. A few months after the Heartbreak, she said that it was time to fucking get my shit together and start dating online. I was totally apprehensive, but her energy sucked me in. We sat in her office over lunch and she created my profile on Match.com. The rest is history – a history that I am sharing with all of you because it is a fucking gong show. She is an awesome mom and wife, and a bend over backwards kind of friend. Whenever one of my trysts or relationships comes to an end, she reaches out with a beer and tub of ice cream.
T – We’ve been friends since the Heartbreak. She was the first person I confided in about my troubles. Credit and kudos goes to her for the Ninety Days or Less rule. When I started dating, she was the one who said that unless a guy and I date for longer than ninety days, she didn’t want to know their name. Their name wasn’t worth fucking knowing unless more time was invested. They were to be referred to only by occupation/nickname. It was also an easier way to keep track of the details. She is my workaholic, most travelled, baker extraordinaire, fabulous friend.
Lady G and J-Cat – They want daily updates to my hectic life. We’ve become closer every day over the last year. J-Cat is my shopping good luck charm and I am under the sneaking suspicion that this bitch can drink me under the table. I will soon find out for sure because I’ll be squatting in a tent on her beautiful new property. Lady G is my work mom. She gives me great advice and I always feel so good after talking to her. She makes my heart smile with her laid back and utterly loving temperament. I appreciate these two very much!
The Throwback – Kris – Loves weed, wine and reading. She just had her first baby. We go all the way back to grade 2. We’ve spent many nights chain smoking, drinking wine, smoking weed and eating substantial amounts of food while watching Sex and the City and Fuller House (don’t judge). She is a huge animal lover and an amazing human being. Her parents are also lovely. So lovely that when I wrote on the “guest name” portion of the RSVP to Kris’ wedding five years ago, I put “Poppy’s next fuck”. I didn’t know that her dad was responsible for the RSVP’s. He and I laughed about it at the reception, after he asked me where my next fuck was (I thought I was going to shit myself! Bahahaha!).
The Brother – Vic – Hooligan roommate. A bit damaged. My original “day 1” homie. Together, we survived our parents’ shitty divorce and corrupt family politics. He and I have grown extremely close over the last decade, and even closer when we started living together five years ago. I am savage with the shit talk, but he is fucking quick witted. He always has a good comeback. We don’t hug, we don’t say “I love you”. Instead, he finds joy in making fun of me and I enjoy put him in his fucking place. We try to out shit talk each other (I always win). Living together has been fun, but stressful. We definitely have some epic arguments. He’s fucking lazy (unmotivated might be a better word) but brilliant. He is squandering unused talents in a job that he doesn’t love and spends too much energy on women who are a waste of time. I just want him to be happy. We tell each other everything. Anyway, for now, you get the picture. We’re tight. You’ll get to hear more about him later.
There are many more ladies and gentleman who were and are part of these adventures and they will be appropriately named in the individual posts.
