on red cups and lifelong friendships

now that the red cups are back, i'm willing to bet that a number of people will be blogging (or tweeting!) about their favorite starbucks christmas drink. mine happens to be the peppermint one, and the cherry one. gay, i know, happens to love the toffee nut.

i'm also willing to bet that several will be gaining a couple of extra pounds as they complete the required number of stickers (this year its 17 + 8 i think) to get the ubiquitous starbucks planner. i believe my brother will be one of those people.

to me, however, the red cups bring back memories of my first actual female barkada -- two women who became my friend because of a "lotto" comment made by one to the other, thereby making it necessary for the offended party to "invite" me to her imaginary wedding, notwitstanding the fact that she had known me for a grand total of 36 hours. with these women, i share lovely memories of "baby boy t____" in the form of a bugs bunny pillow, "the wrong a", and a certain man standing on the corner of their street with his overnight bag all packed. it's a friendship that isn't perfect - oh how many days have i suffered from the silent treatment, and how many days did i myself inflict the silent treatment - but one that is real -- we've seen each other cry, laugh, hurt, triumph. we've gone through the worst possible dilemna from the least expected source, and yet we're still here -- good friends, kumares because of a wonderful little boy.

our initial bonding was over hot cups of specialty christmas coffee from starbucks. that year, if i'm not mistaken, we all got the planner. whoever wanted airtime would have to treat the other two to a cup of coffee each, and the other two would be bound to listen, interject only at appropriate times, and agree without reservations. it was a pact that we have to this day ... and a pact that would live as long as the red cups keep coming back.

as i write this, and wax romantic about two of my closest friends, i also can't help but think of a friendship that i abruptly and quite rudely ended this year. i am the offending party, and i know that there are a million and one opportunities that came my way to actually mend the friendship, but for some reason, i couldn't. worse, i didn't even want to try. well-meaning friends have told me that the harshness i've exhibited isn't the best way to deal with the situation, and a number have pointed out that pride is the only thing that's fueling the feud between us, but, sad to say, i guess it's a thorn that i'll have to carry with me for the rest of my life. i can't, i just can't.

maybe cause she doesn't shop at surplus shop. maybe cause she's as bossy as i am. maybe cause she's just too nice to me that i can't live up to her expecting the exact same thing from me.

and maybe it's cause we never bonded over a cup of coffee in a red cup.