On Board The Good Ship Friend...

...or in other words, I should have just called this 'on friendship' but I was being a smart arse.

I have the most amazingly wonderful friends in the entire history of the world. Seriously. My friends are better than your friends, and I know this because they are able to put up with me without wanting to strangle me with a sock. Or, if they ever HAVE wanted to strangle me with a sock, they've been awesome enough to keep it to themselves and never act on such an impulse. What can I say? My friends just rock.

Some of my friends I've known since forever, and it embarrasses me only slightly that they can still recall what I looked like at that school disco; bless them for their sweetness in never mentioning it. Others have fallen by the wayside but a very rare few are still hanging around. Quite WHY they're still hanging around I haven't entirely figured out, but it shows that I must be doing something right. I love you muchly.

Others I have only known for a couple of years or so, and this includes the mighty tribe of Forumbat, who are actually THE most awesome people you could ever hope to meet. Whenever I find myself in a down moment (which, lets be honest, isn't exactly a rare occurrence for a mardy cow like me), I just think of all the epic times I've had as a Forumbat and before you can say Robert is your mother's brother I'm laughing like a fool. Although apparently not everyone gets the joke and tends to look at you a bit oddly if the answer to their question, "er, what are you laughing at?" is the ecstatic response "squirrels with beards!!" What can I say, it's their loss...Anyway, I love you very muchly also and insist that you all remain as bonkers and brilliant as you are now.

However. Oh, but however. If there is one thing guaranteed to make me turn into a snarling, spitting, biting, scratching she-wolf (yes, one that's even worse than I normally am) it's anyone foolish enough to attempt to rain on my friends parades. I had fisticuffs in secondary school with a few people in defence of my friends and believe me, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. My friends are amazing people, for reasons that I couldn't even begin to list, but the main one is they put up with me and my madness and for that they deserve to be defended to the death. (Or possibly sectioned. Or a medal. Or all three). I can't stand it when my friends are unhappy, and although it's taken me a while to learn that sometimes I can't actually fix it and the best thing I can do is just be there for them, there's still an instinct inside me that makes me want to go charging into battle on their behalf. I fail to understand why anyone would want to do something to make any of my friends unhappy when they're such amazing people; it's complete anathema to me. I'm not saying they're perfect (sorry guys) because they're only human, after all, but actually they are pretty darn special and I pity anyone who can't see that.

So this is a friendly warning, a heads-up, a shot across the bows, if you will. If you are one of the foolish, foolish people who have ever dared to upset one of my friends, any of them, you better pray like hell to whatever-it-is you believe in that our paths never cross. Because let me tell you something, only one of us will walk away from the encounter unscathed and it won't be you. I can do things with plastic teaspoons that are hitherto unknown to man, so you better wise up and shut up if you want to keep walking the way you do. I don't intend to kill you, I'm not that soft, but you may well be left wishing I had. Don't say I didn't warn you.

And if you are one of my friends, especially the one who inspired this rant because of some morons pathetic opinion and complete lies, listen up because this bit is for all of you. I love you, I will always be there for you and even if I can't fix it I'll do my darndest to try. If all I can do is let you cry till snot dribbles all over my favourite jumper, it's a sacrifice I will gladly make. I won't even charge you for the dry cleaning. I can't fight your battles for you and I can't always provide the right answers, but even if all I can do is be at the end of a computer screen or a phone, I am here for you. We may argue, we may disagree over stupid things and I know for sure I'm not perfect, but I love you all and will cheris every single memory we've shared - even the not so great ones, where we fought over a boy in college or something equally stupid - until the day I die.

Thank you for being my friends and thank you for giving me so much love, laughter, inspiration, frustration, jealousy, pride and every other emotion possible. You are, quite simply, the best.

Love Kate xxx

River Rushing...

Last night (or 2 nights ago, as it's now technically Monday morning - doesn't time fly when you're surfing t'internet?) for the first time in many years I sat and watched Stand By Me, the 1986 Rob Reiner film based on a Stephen King novella. I absolutely love the film, but it's one of those ones that I almost have to force myself to watch; not because of its content or because I can't stand it (quite the opposite), but because every time I see it, I'm reminded again of the tragic death of River Phoenix and how much talent he had...

All four of the young leads in Stand By Me are talented, and very much of their time and generation, but it was River who was the stand-out performer by about a country mile. It seems to be the most ironic thing in the world that so many of the great writers, actors and musicians I've grown up admiring have died far too early, either through self-inflicted means (Kurt Cobain and Sylvia Plath, for example), accidental overdoses (Heath Ledger) or drugs (Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, River...) There seems to be some bizarre law of the universe that states that it is almost impossible for someone so gifted, so talented, with such a state of genius, to be able to live a normal, happy and healthy life: something always has to come along and screw it up, whether that be tragedy in their personal lives or their own untimely death when, like Heath and like River before him, they still had so much to give. And everytime I watch Stand By Me in particular (although Running On Empty, Indiana Jones and My Own Private Idaho also have this effect), I find myself sobbing at the wasted talent, his tragic death and of course the film itself. It is without a doubt (in my humble opinion at least) one of the greatest films ever made, and this is probably one of my favourite moments in the whole thing...



Of course, I have to declare a conflict of interest here. Not only did I grow up full of admiration for River's talents as an actor and musician, and for his stance on all things animal rights, environmental and political, but I was sort of a sucker for his looks, too. I know it's trite and it's shallow but it's true; for the love of the Gods, I was only eleven years old when he passed away after all, and the hormones were starting to kick in! But because I was so young, it was mainly after his death that I was left to rue what might have been and, yes, to mourn the beauty (physical, emotional and acting-wise) that had been taken from us. To this day, my heart breaks when I watch the campfire scene from 'My Own Private Idaho' for example, or the bit in 'Running On Empty' where his character sneaks into his girlfriend's house...River just shone out from the screen, completely mesmerising and utterly heartbreaking all at the same time.



So come Halloween, I shall make the time (amongst all the other festivities and ceremonies) to curl up with plenty of tissues and watch something River-related to honour his memory. It had better only be the one film, though; there aren't enough tissues in the world that could sustain me for the full 'Stand By Me, Running On Empty, My Own Private Idaho' cycle...may the Gods bless you, River, wherever you are...