you're my best friend

I refuse to put Queen lyrics up on my site.

In Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett they reveal that any cassette left in a car for over a month suddenly (and inexplicably) mutates into Queen's Greatest Hits (they don't explain whether it is volume 1 or 2). One of the strangest phenomenon that I have discovered is that during Live Aid (the first one) I actually knew the lyrics to Queen songs. What made it even stranger - so did the majority of my countrymen. Now, as Maria will attest, me and lyrics don't get on. I never know lyrics. Play my favourite songs and halfway through them I will start to mumble. But, play a Queen song and for some reason I can sing along quite happily (I say happily I mean: I will be standing in a supermarket, singing along without realising. This will lead to several hours sat in a dark room playing the Foo Fighters at full volume trying to rid myself of the crime I have perpetuated against music). So for many, many reasons I won't be putting Queen lyrics up on my site!!! Go read them here, then come back...I'll wait.*

So, Sunday we went for a Carne Asada (that's a BBQ for those of you who don't have a huuuuuuge Spanish vocab like me [up to 24 words now]). It's amazing how fraught with stress and anxiety this event was before the build up. Maria had got a phone call from friends inviting us. But these were friends who had spoken to her since last October, the time she phoned them up and told them she was moving out of her house and into a flat to prepare for my arrival. She said "Yes", hung up the phone and then the individual mind-fucks started. But we never shared our mind games. The first that I knew she was worried about the event was when I read this - the day after the event. (Please note, this doesn't mean that I don't read her blog every day - she didn't post this entry until we were out the door on the way to the thing).

A couple of days ago Alan wrote a post about "friendships" and I was quite flippant in reminding him that he had a best friend (no, it wasn't me - hells teeth, we're English, we haven't even been properly introduced!). But the fact is, since moving here I have lost contact with just about everyone I would call a friend. My move seemed to inspire a certain amount of hatred amongst people who I used to drink with, talk with. It also caused a major upheaval in Maria's life. If we were to list the friend's we had now we would get as far as the people we work with (and both of us have only been working for five months) and....that's about it. I knew that she had been good friends with these people. I also knew that her husband had been friends as well. And so the pressure started to build. This was self-induced pressure. It was important to me that they liked me, I needed to be accepted. But what if they didn't? God, why oh why hadn't I learnt Spanish by now. How could I talk to these people? How would I be nice and polite? I was just going to spend the day, sat in a chair, listening to everyone speak Spanish, grinning inanely, desperately sending out "love me, love me" vibes, hoping that they loved me.

I now have two new friends.

The day was wonderful. You forget that the basic Mexican mind-set is "Welcome" - which is foolish of me. In the (near) nine months I have been here I have been treated with kindness and patience (I really should learn Spanish) by everyone I have met - and Efrain and Ileana were no different. They took me in, sat me down, put a beer in my hand and the afternoon, evening, late night went wonderfully. They both spoke English (gotta lurve Mexicans who speak English) and the conversation flowed. We ran out of beer and Efrain and I did the "beer run". At that moment we had the heart-to-heart talk, where he told me that they were worried about Maria. Worried that she might have made the wrong decision, worried that I might be an internet-axe-murderer(™ applied for), wanted the best for her. And then we did the bonding thing. I got back to the house, went inside to fill the fridge with beer and Ileana followed me in. At that moment we had the heart-to-heart talk, where she told me that they were worried about Maria. Worried that she might have made the wrong decision, worried that I might be an internet-axe-murderer(™ applied for), wanted the best for her. And then we did the bonding thing. I think they both liked me.

I have new friends.

Of course it also helped that I got on with their children. They have two - one is two years old and one is two months old. And I got to do my thing. You know, that thing where the baby is restless and about to start crying before he goes to sleep. That's when I step in and take the baby away from the mum and talk to him. It has always worked in England - there has never been a baby who cannot stay awake as I tell the story of the 1966 World Cup Final. They always pass out before Geoff Hurst scores the last goal! And it appears that Mexican babies are just the same. Can't be the story, it is soooo very exciting. Must be the guy who is telling it.

*It also occurs to me that for a couple of years my party piece (at the end of an evening when much alcohol had been consumed) was a mime to Bohemian Rhapsody. This I had shamelessly stolen from Lee Evans.

Comments

[Alan]

I am pleased for you, and Maria :)

[Vanessa]

You mad internet axe murderer, you. Well done. I'm pleased for you both.

[Daisy]

I know virtual friends aren't as good as real, live, breathing ones but there are quite a few of us out here too, cheering at the news :-)