BSB SAYS "WE'GE GOT IT GOIN' ON FOR YEARS" / THIS ONE'S FOR MACKY

"We've got it goin' on for years." — We've Got It Goin' On, Backstreet Boys

My best friend from high school lives one trike away from my house. (For the sake of tearing down cultural barriers, a trike/tricycle is a motorcycle with—you guessed it—three wheels. That doesn't mean that the vehicle is more stable with the extra wheel. On the contrary, the motorcycle with three wheels somehow brings you closer to your death wish. Such vehicles are usually used for ten-minute rides, tops; that's enough time for you to barter with kingdom come while your entire life flashes before your eyes.)

So anyway, my best friend from high school lives one trike away from my house, but for some reason, I haven't gone to see her in more than a year. And yes, I was a sloth (mind the 'O' and the 'H'); I guess I was always banking in on the fact that Macky lived five minutes away from my house, and that I could pop in to see her anytime. Naturally, I didn't pop in as I should've.

And so as atonement, I went to see her last Saturday. I was attending a party nearby, so I realized I should come round and see what she's been up to. The fact that I found the time to see her only because I was attending a shenanigan gives the gods of girly bonding and pedicure more reasons to stone me to death.

I'm not usually a sentimental person (or I would never admit to being one), but I have to admit there was some nostalgia when Macky made me listen to Backstreet Boys tracks on her ipod. These were songs we used to know by heart. It took me a while to recognize some of the songs' intros, but I soon realized that I still have the lyrics tucked somewhere in my brain. Whether I liked it or not, I could still sing along.

Macky and I go a long way back. I've known her since third grade, but we became thisclose in sixth grade when we became classmates. We had a bond because we had the same bad hair together. We watched our first concert together. (We watched the Backstreet Boys back in the days when they really were boys, and Nick Carter couldn't even vote.)

We became classmates again in high school, and up until I graduated, I knew that I couldn't fart in front of any of my friends except Macky.

We sporadically saw each other when we were in college, but I guess at that time, we were too excited to tell new stories that we hardly listened to each other.

It was different last Saturday. Our conversation, for some reason, was more serious. We talked about careers and frustrations; surprisingly, we also listened. The thing that struck me most was that the conversation didn't feel contrived at all. There was this odd sincerity that I knew we weren't just shooting the bull and pretending to like each other.

I can be quite the anti-social, and sometimes I don't attend get-togethers because I find them pretentious. But if there's something I learned from visiting Macky, it's this: she's one helluva saturating pop song that I can't ever escape.