Okay, this may be one of those

“You Had To Be There”

to fully appreciate story,

but I am still laughing about it,

a week later,

and my weeks and days are always full of activity and entertainment.

Flamingo and I were at Norton’s, a restaurant located in Green Lake, Wisconsin.

Flamingo is a regular because her parents have a place located on the lake here and she has been coming here since she was a lil hard too even imagine, but a tinier bird. Because, Flamingo is a willowy stick adult.  Kind of like a Flamingo’s legs, which just occured to me since her nickname came from my confusion over her friend’s text regarding the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas.

Anyway, Flamingo and I are sitting across from one another at a table located smack in the front, if you know Chicago, it is like being seated in the window seat at Pane Caldo, except, we are in the cheese head state and it’s Mertz cheese and bread sticks instead of brie and asiago cheese toast points.  So, we are innocently discussing the menu and what we feel like eating when…

A man in his thirties approaches us at the table:

“I saw your mom in here last week,

she was with some friends,

your mom,

she was the only one I recognized,

and, I have been holding on to this, saving it, so I could give it to her,

(his voice was getting really rushed and kind of panicky, so, we didn’t know what to expect!)

I wanted to make sure she got it back! 

“Do you recognize this boy!?!”

Like a cowboy in a showdown,

Like a private detective in a wanting to get down to the bottom of it!

Here it is!

A wallet sized school photo of an eleven-year-old boy!

Flamingo is a speechless and makes a small noise.

So am I, which is rare. 

Reminds me of the only time I got sent to detention, was when I was talking too much in Mr. Adams Speech class at St. Paul’s, the all boys school to my all girls school, Saint Scholastica Academy.

of course, I wished I had thought about talking too much in speech class before,

because I got to go to detention with all boys!

When my mom found out, she called Mr. Adams and he offered a possible explanation regarding my motor mouthing in his Speech class,

“she isn’t used to being in classes with boys.”

I don’t know what Adams said when my mom said, “Meredith has attended public schools with boys.”

So, there we are staring up at this guy holding up the wallet sized photo of the school boy,

I am picturing Flamingo’s blank, doe-eyed expression right now,

like that smiley icon that is a blank stare,

I can’t stop laughing.

She is able to be ever so polite and take the small lil photo from him,

telling him that she will be sure to ask her mom about it

because she doesn’t recognize the teen.

He walks away and Flamingo and I stare at each other.

“You better crack that case,”

I said to her,

trying not to laugh because the guy was really really close to us,

and he was just trying to return a school boy’s wallet sized school photo to it’s rightful owner,

after all!

The waitress approached and Flamingo asked her about a dessert on the menu,

“You have been coming here for years!”

She said to Flamingo in an annoyed and dismayed tone.

Flamingo was a little taken a back, as was I,

probably because we were both preoccupied with wanting to get down to the bottom of the school photo mystery.

But, not really.

She explained the dessert to Flamingo who doesn’t even eat desserts,

and turned her heel and walked away,

leaping,

two deer, a stag

outside,

the glass window,

the deer and stag

running into the dark dark night,  

patrons Stand and Look!

Flamingo and I don’t move from our seats,

but we do look, appreciate the

distraction

I can’t even recall our exact words

but we did look at each other and laugh.

Flamingo spoke with her mom the next day

“It’s a school photo, a young boy, wallet sized,

she tried to describe the boy to her mom

her mom who was on a road trip to Florida,

she thought it was the grandson of one of her friends,

but,

Flamingo will have to remember to bring the wallet sized photo of the school boy

with her the next time she goes to Florida

or,

just mail it

to her mom in Florida.

Solving,

for the boy’s grandparents,

Making,

the boy’s grandparents happy

to have their grandson’s school photo back so they can show their friends.

Of course, we don’t know for certain yet,

the mystery, the case

remains open unsolved

the photo will need to be reviewed

by Flamingo’s mom friend in the Sunshine State.

Of mind.

Happy sunny week!

Out of the blue!

“Mere Mere!”

yesterday morning,

It was the voice of one of the boys

who I grew up with in Greenhills, Ohio!

Chris!

was driving from Cincinnati, Ohio

where he lives with his wife and three daughters,

to Chicago

and would be here in three hours.

I saw Chris 2 years ago after 30 or so years,

because Chris’ young daughter is a talented talented ballerina who has been dancing with the Chicago Ballet,

hip surgery very recently,

so, Chris is here to pack up his daughter’s stuff in Logan Square,

while she recovers back in the Buckeye State,

with,

“Guess who I have with me?”

He had another one of the boys,

posse,

who I grew up,

Eric or E,

whom I hadn’t seen in 30 plus years!

Isn’t it a beautifully strange feeling to see someone,

to see someone as an adult and to try and catch up mentally and visually those 30 year,

8 or so, and I was 10,

last time I saw E,

Chris, E and me,  

you know how it goes with some friends.

Especially the ones you

played:

kick the can!

teather ball!

kick ball!

big wheels down the big hill!

crashing, smashing and wrecking their big wheels,

(as my cousin Scott likes to recall,  I smashed his big wheel into a wall too)

“From an early early age, you were a bad driver,”

he likes to say, and we laugh about that one because I have been in a ton of car accidents,

with cars, not bikes,

trainy-wheeley bikes,

boy’s(!?!) red Schwinn bike,

hiding and seeking,

creek fishing,

skate

boarding,

flying, living,

Different jobs, different cities,

My life has been soooo

very different than theirs,

but!

because we have a shared past,

even after my family moved from

Greenhills, Ohio/suburb of Cincinnati

to Chesterfield, Missouri/suburb of St Louis

to Glen Ellyn, Illinois/suburb of Chicago

to Mandeville, Louisiana/town outside of New Orleans,

we would meet,

an annual trip,

our families

in Port St. Joe, Florida

camping

beaching,

burning,

running in the sand dunes

hiding and seeking in the sand dunes,

lighting bomb fires

lighting cigarette butts!

picking up,

I can still picture:

a small white torn edge of a cigarette

in the mud near the rec center where there was a card game, playing

my first cigarette butt!,

dusting, picking off the brown mud,

this is my first memory of smoking,

ah smoking!

but, it may have been before this time because when we lived in Chesterfield, Missouri,

I was friends with a high schooler when I was in elementary school,

she and I would smoke cigarettes,

with Queen, Elton John on the turntable,

turning back time,

recalling

vividly!

Port St Joe Florida family vacations,   

combing through

the camp sites, the empty park benches, the empty park rec centers, the sand dunes,

looking for old butts,

because I was used to the smell

road trip after road trip,

road trip in the Country Squire from latest town to Port St Joe, Florida,

Smoke was part of  the family.

Family, these guys are like my family,

even though we haven’t spoken or seen each other in so very very long,

yesterday,

they loved being in my 21st floor apartment with the views into the apartment building, 

the Mies Van Der Rohe buildings,

“You can see right inside their apartments!”

Because it can be described as 

fish bowlish,

I don’t feel that way,

someone who lives in the building across from me said that he can see me clear as day,

but,

most of my days nights in the other room

with curtains,

closed curtains, no Rear Window view,

Once they got over the views and the plasma screen tv,

Once I explained my place with the views and the pst is listed, has been on the market since February,

But!

I didn’t want to rain on their MarriedManyKiddosCincinnatiSurburban Parade,

We went up to the roof of my building,

37th floor view,

Chicago skyline,

the Big Willie

(can you believe they call the ex Sears Tower, now Willis Tower, the Big Willie with a straight face and copy)

the John Hancock,

Navy Pier

“What is that?”

E pointed to a big, ugly patch of land in the distance,

I had never even noticed

because

when I am on the roof,

I am laying out/chewing gum/reading a book/talking on the phone or eating bbq pork,

I have no idea!  I said to E.

“Mere Mere!”

He said in a voice normally reserved for a three-year-old

which, just thinking about it, sooo cute!

E is a dad like Chris, E has five kids!

12, 9, and THREE YEAR OLD TRIPLETS!!!!

He told me that I needed to make up a story about it,

the grody patch of land in the distance that I had never noticed,

“It’s some kind of  government experiment,” Chris offered,

in the deadpandeadon delivery,

Guys! Fun and Funny!

We walked down the street,

toward Michigan Avenue

I know the most favoritest corner of all guys I know,

even though I hate cars,

especially race cars,

wouldn’t be caught dead in a Ferrari,

or a red car,

which is funny because I drove red car forever,

see for yourself, if you like,

Bentley,

Lamborghini,

http://www.bentleygoldcoast.com/

“Can we go in?”

E asked me in the sweetest of voices,

“Of course!  that is why we are here!” I said,

Because,

isn’t that what some of your friends in your posse are about,

giving,

how on earth can one person give you all that you need! 

thank my lucky stars for my friends,

Walking,

Looking,

at the insane machines,

“I will give you five bucks to ask the salesman if any of these cars are eligible for the Cash for Clunkers program,”

I said to Chris,

Chris said he will laugh out loud,

but,

E,

I am laughing my head off right now about it.

Because, well,

you kind of have to be at this corner

to experience,

see the salespeople with the airs that they can afford the 91K plus ticket,

in this market! as if! dumb!

see the site,

E, Chris and me, we can’t afford, even if I had the dough, I would not spend it on a car,

E, Chris,

Fun and Funny!

E and Chris still have the same wonderful personalities I recall as a kid,

“I can’t believe you are making me do this,”

E said to me,

look what I am wearing,

I look like I am from Cincinnati!”

“You could be a young Bill Gates,” I said in return

because everybody knows money makers look different these days,

Howard Hughes wore tattered clothes,

E, in his white t-shirt,

E walked over to the salesman,

I followed close behind,

because I didn’t want to miss a second of this!

E  asked the three oily three piece suited men sitting behind the desk:

“Are any of these cars eligible for the Cash for Clunkers program?”

You could hear the proverbial thousands of dollars (have you seen the sticker price?) drop,

and,

this is a bustling corner,

None of the Oily BeauHunks (16 Candles reference) laughed.

but,

E, Chris and I were laughing our heads off.

And, that is all that matters,

for a small window of time,

we forgot about the realities of our adult lives today,

each unique and different,

a little challenging a little sad a little heartbreaking

it’s just called Life.

life as adults,

but,

at that moment in time,

we laughed and laughed

just like three kids

riding big wheels, skateboards, bikes,

in Greenhills, Ohio.

or

smoking cigarette butts

in the sand dunes

of Port St. Joe, Florida.

This is a true story that I didn’t know I needed to tell.

But, there have been way too many,

I am just going to go ahead and tell it.

My first blooming love happened when I was 16 years old.  I had transfered from Mandeville High School to Saint Scholastica Academy when I was a junior.   My northern rooted family moved to rural Mandeville, Louisiana from not at all rural Glen Ellyn, Illinois my second semester freshman year.  I was taken away from running the mile on the track team, a House of Representative title, games of truth or dare with year-old friends; Glenbard West was a beautiful brick high school located on top of a hill, picture the most perfect idea of a high school, this was it.  We drove our Country Squire wood paneled station wagon into a rural town where my high school, Mandeville High School,  I had to wait a year to participate in sports, classes were held in mobile homes and you could drink and drive. 

But, I was hopeful because we had moved three times over the past three years and we, all knew the drill.  But, this time, this time was WAY DIFFERENT.  My grandfather, my mom’s dad, had just died, so she was sad, my dad’s new job, no one wanted a Yankee coming in telling them what to do, so he was mad, my brother, like me, we were simply, all of us were just trying to survive.  And, well, I have to agree, survival is for the fittest.

In the past, I was able to successfully make friends with the hottest girl due to my wit and wardrobe.  Being best friends with the hottest girl when you are known for your wit and wardrobe was a good fit for me and was where I was the most comfortable in my head and with boys.  Because I wasn’t ready to be dating yet, so, just flirting with the boys who were really attracted to my hottest best friend, I always knew my role.  And, I was fine with it, because I was the kind of girl who would rather escape into a story, a good mystery rather than a love story and I could read while riding in the car. 

Because my parents believed in a public education and I grew up attending public high schools, I was enrolled at Mandeville High School where paddling was still in practice and the gym teachers, in their short gray clingy gym shorts were rumored to be having after school sessions with my classmates.   I had gone to MHS for a year and a half and the trucks, the monster wheels, the senior level classes I was in when I was a freshman (where was I supposed to go my junior year!?) I was thankful for the handful of friends I did have, they were transfer students like me: Lila, Brian and Nina.  We would gather in the “Pit” and bitch and moan and make fun of the students in this redneck world that we didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand.  Because, like me, Lila, Brian and Nina had been moved by their families too into a strange and rural and boring world and we knew we were miserable.

Thank god for MTV, Pace Picante Sauce and tortilla chips because that’s how Lila and I would spend many Saturday nights.  Like Lila and I at MHS, MTV was new too, so there were very few videos.  The video for the song Mexican Radio where the guy’s head comes up through the noodles is firmly imprinted in my mind because of this period of time in my life.  That is one heck of a bad song and to this day, after an overpriced film and broadcasting degree where I studied films, I still don’t understand the message.  But, I remember the song and the video, so clearly, somebody was doing something right.  Or, maybe it’s just my photographic memory at work,  

a blessing and a curse!,

the Beginning of my junior year, as I walked from one building to a mobile home that this school considered to be appropriate for learning…somehow, I was “discovered” by a boy named Kevin whose last name I can’t recall and that’s when my whole little world changed over fucking night.  Because, according to Kevin who was popular, I guess it was my summer tan, Kevin told somebody who told somebody that I was hot.

Since I had spent many hours and years reading poems by Hugh Prather and writing bad poetry in a puffy diary and have Irish and Scottish blood running through my small veins; I was pissed as hell that I could go from a nobody to a somebody all thanks to some slacker who wasn’t paying attention to his teacher in his classroom.  As a dear friend has said about me “She looks normal.”  I have also heard upon meeting someone with whom I knew over the telephone, “You are so much smaller than I expected.”  I do have brown hair and brown eyes and a tall voice.

lyrics,

You know how music,

like that Mexican Radio song,

can remind you of a person, a place in time, a memory?

I don’t know why but I recently put in an ancient Elton John cd,

the song Daniel came on,

the song Daniel reminds me of Stephen and Chris Standley.

Stephen was the first guy I started dating when I transfered to SSA and was considered to now be cute.  Stephen was a year older than me and I was flat out crazy about that kid.  I can still remember sitting in the passenger seat of his mom’s car, Stephen driving us to the movie theater to go see some horror movie so we could make out.   

He was singing along to the lyrics to some dumb ass love song that was on the radio to me,

and

as cynical and pissed off as I was then, 

that he could actually sing that song to me,

I think that was the moment I thought I was in love. 

Who knows, if it was then for sure, but I sure do remember him

and

he made me feel like he loved me and whether he did or not, that really is not the point now is it? 

It is all in how someone makes you feel.  And, after so many years of feeling like I didn’t exist and hating my life, Stephen made me feel like I was the center of the universe, or his anyway.  I think that was one of Stephen’s many gifts because he had many friends and many smiles and he wasn’t afraid to share his love. Which did present a problem later on in our budding romance, 

but,

that song on the radio,

Mexican Radio,

Like A Virgin,    

Daniel,

The song Daniel reminds me of the Standley brothers

because at some party,

I don’t even think Stephen and I were dating anymore,

but,

Stephen and Chris were singing the lyrics to each other

Daniel is travelling tonight on a plane
I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain
Oh and I can see Daniel waving goodbye
God it looks like Daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes

Maybe if Stephen were still alive,

If  I hadn’t found out a year ago that he shot himself to death because he was suffering from bipolar disorder,

maybe I wouldn’t have paid attention to those lyrics

maybe I wouldn’t have remembered Stephen and Chris singing those lyrics

but I did and do. 

“I just loved Stephen.”

As a friend who grew up with Stephen said to me the other day over lunch

I know exactly what she means.

I know that my little broken heart pales

Because,

I was able to put the pieces back together

I wouldn’t trade having my heart broken by Stephen for anything,

He was worth it.

He ran through my dance photos with Shearn

He held his middle finger across my face in dance photo after dance photo 

He and Shearn’s ex,

dedicated Madonna’s Like  A Virgin

to me at the dance,

He was clearly hurt by me

even

though the reason

I broke up with him was because he slept with some blonde amazon woman from Mandeville High School 

I may have had a 16 year old broken heart,

I may have been really really really embarrassed by his public display of torture and public virginal outing,

forever making me think of him when I hear

Madonna’s

Like A Virgin

(tragic  ironic lots of things for lots of reasons),

because we all think about our first love and our first time,

past is the past

today is today

seven years ago or so you killed yourself,

time, so long ago,

I can’t believe I know,

less much had a silly little high school romance

with someone who killed himself,

x 2 for me,

because my high school prom date shot himself,

2,

what are the odds?

at odds

I am about it,

it seems to me

today,

people no longer seem as surprised, stunned, shocked by this,

maybe no one knows how to feel anymore either,

maybe one and all

medicated, drunk, too busy, too ready to change the channel when something someone hears

like I wanted to turn the channel when I heard,

like my ears were bleeding when I heard,

Afghan women are LIGHTING THEMSELVES ON FIRE

to get away from her torturer, her husband, her be-wed,

I can imagine,

I imagine,

maybe time, maybe those closer to you, knew you and you changed,

perhaps your illness changed you beyond smiling Stephen recognition,

regardless.

because you were you,

because you were a friend, brother, son

because you and i and me, we are all human!

don’t make me get all Buddha on you,

you and me,

it could happen to you and me and us,

I will write 

be as loud as a street smart short ex-date can be,

I am so sorry you were alone in that motel room.

I am so sorry that nothing anyone could say or do could change your thinking.

I am so sorry no one got to you in time.

your illness,

which made you so very you

you may have lots of women who don’t think so kindly of you,

but,

they don’t understand your illness.

I don’t even know if you understood your illness

you and I never spoke again after I broke up with you over Blonde Amazon,

I do wish and so does

you were here

I want to yell at you for ruining my dance photos

and

for stealing Mick Jagger’s and Neil Young’s lyrics

pretending like those were your words,

in your last ditch love letter to me (although, I think those lyrics may have been Jackson’s collective recall),

one of your childhood best friends, we want to have words with you!

wants to punch you in the face

like me,

he wishes you weren’t alone in that motel room.

locked alone in the motel room of your mind.

Dedication: This one is for Neds.

Skinny Awkward Kid, Peter, Flamingo get Honorable Mentions. 

Neds, I will try and recount our story/ies as accurately as possible.  However, my memory is soggy and foggy.  And, with age, it is just flat out golden olden.

Freshman year at Denison University, I had a philosophy class where I met a super hot and super smart FOOTBALL PLAYER who was from California.  His nickname is Neds. I am emphasizing the word football player because, in high school, I loathed football players.  My type up until that point in time was The Skinny Awkward Kid.  Because, up until junior year in high school,  I was the skinny awkward smart smart aleck girl.  Did I mention I started to wear glasses when I was in third grade?  I had contacts by the time I was in 8th grade and I can still recall to this day, the first time I had my contacts in and a friend asked me why I kept winking at him.  I do believe we all still carry a little bit of that kid with us, no matter how complicated the title, how many corner offices, how hot the spouse/gbfriend.  But, maybe I am just a sentimentalist or stuck in the past.   

Last year, my friend Peter, who also went to Denison,

whom I hadn’t seen since the late 90s when I was in LA and he was attending Pasadena Art School,

Peter is one of my numerous male friends with whom I was/am just friends. Because, I don’t like too many girls, I grew up in a hood with all boys, I have a mom who was a tomboy,

“Dude Chick,”  Sandwich Man aka The Swedish Nihilist is to thank for one of my many nicknames.

Nick just happened to be Peter’s work colleague’s name,

Neds name came up,

Last year,

Neds and I had gotten reconnected via FB,

like Peter and me,

and when Peter and Nick were visiting Chicago while on business,

“He looked like a football player, but, he is really really smart.”

This is the way Peter described Neds to his fellow ad colleague.

Peter is super duper successful in the ad business on Madison Avenue Mad Men.  Shortly after college, he married a super nice and super pretty girl from Denison (remember, I don’t like that many girls!) and they have been married for so long the math is too high for me.    

Peter and I also met freshman year. We had an economics class together and we sat near each other until I was getting a D and had to drop the class.  But, he and I stayed friends because he was dating a close friend of mine whom I met in the International Dorm, the dorm where she and I and a handful of Westerners/Slackers/Decided at the Lastest Minute/BackUp School got stationed.  The International Dorm was located on fraternity row, which added to its uniqueness because we had to walk past the Sig House each day on our little ways to our little freshman classes.  It was embarrassing having to walk past those fraternity guys standing out on their porch each day.  At least it was for me, because of my SAK beginnings and fish out of waterness.

Peter’s point and my point is that Neds completely went against type.  And, I am thankful we had that philosophy class together because I remember him very well, because of the kind of person Neds is – TOTALLY RAD AND AWESOME.  Also, who doesn’t remember (even after all the drunk nights spent at the kegger, and 20 plus years) your first semester freshman year at college?  Neds and I had a connection because we both loved philosophy and he didn’t mind that I wore too much makeup and that I was from New Orleans (although I was really from Cincinnati, Ohio but that was beside the point, right?) 

I don’t recall the details of what I think was our first encounter but I do remember the night because we were in Flamingo’s roommate’s bed which was located too close for comfort to a bbburrrnning radiator, Neds’ arm got Popeyes fried!   From that get go,  Neds and I had a physically communicating connection.  But, I also knew he was smart, so, for me, even though he was a Denison football player, and I was a little nervous about how Calisurfinhotcoolsmartdeep he was…I secretly thought I found my very own Jim Morrison. Neds and The Lizard King, the fact that they looked the way they did, that was just extra credit for me.  Because, I was always listeninglooking with my skinnyawkwardsmartsmartyaleck ears and four eyes.   

Neds still has a scar from that first evening with me.  At least I think this was the first evening.  Because, although we never dated, because dating really wasn’t something kids did at Denison, it was more of a “Do you want a beer” while you were standing two inches away from a kegger and that was if you were important or cute enough to get on ”The List” at a fraternity.  Me being me, ”The List” concept got me so aggravated that even though I was on it (after I got a Clinque makeover and looked more like them than my old Silver City Pink and blackened eyed self), I was so mad about it, that it was based on my cuteness, that the list even existed in the first place,  that I didn’t have total control, well, I had more of a pissed off chipper on my little shoulders than normal.  And, believe me, I can have quite a temper.  Blame the Irish!  

Back to my original story, I don’t know about you but aren’t there some people in your life, maybe it is timing, maybe it is that window of time, you decide you will always think well and happy thoughts, The Skinny Awkward Kid, Neds, Peter, I will always think well and happy thoughts about these guys.

But, that is me, I am loyal. Even in my soggiest and foggiest of memories.

Getting reconnected with them, all these years later has been awesome.  All are married but we are all friends and I am thankful for their friendships.

Back to freshman year at Denison, Neds and I stayed hook up buddies for awhile. 

Since Flamingo’s roommate’s bed wasn’t always free and since Neds did get flesh burned from that sizzling radiator, since I had the top bunk at the International Dorm, since after 13 beers who could make it up there!

It just made perfect sense for us to make out in the campus graveyard!

I may go to Hades because of rolling around kissing on top of dead people.

shit!,

manure!,

Don’t we all become part of the shit, the manure?

in the end?

this is the end,

so very Jim

Our watery,

my late 90s drive from Portland Oregon to LA LA Land hook up in San Franciso

story is for another time.

Like Peter,

today,  

Neds is successful, owns his own import/export business, travelling the world and is married to a beautiful actress,

Thanks Neds for staying a friend, all of these years later.

Married, millions of miles apart, many years since I last saw you,

I’m happy and smiling because we are still friends,

consider yourself/s branded:

Rad and Awesome 4Ever.

Anne Frank, Peggy Oki, Betty of Betty and Veronica (Archie comics), Gloria Vanderbilt, Jane Goodall, Lucy from I Love Lucy, Katherine Graham(kicked big time ass!), Boat-A-Cade Queen, Rita Hayworth, MK!, Divorced Single Mothers, Billie Holiday, Elaine from Seinfeld, Eleanor Roosevelt, Jenny S, Adrienne Shelly, Mom, Diane Sawyer, Lucinda Williams, Stockard Channing, Frida Kahlo, Marlene D, Helen Keller, Zora Neale Hurston, Cagney & Lacey, My Grandmothers whom I never got the chance to know, Sue Ellen, Angela Landsbury, Kirby Burke, Rosa Parks, Halle Berry, Barbara Standwick, Single Mothers, Judy Blume, Pam Brady, Annette Bening, Queen Elizabeth I, Nina Simone, Ms. Moss, Roz on Fraiser, Daisy Duke, the friendship of the Sex And the City gals, Annette Gendler, Coco Chanel, Dawn Steel, Margaret Mead, Keri Russell & Felicity, Joyce S, Syliva Plath, Susannah Grant, Queen Latifah, Julie Nicholas Farrell, Frances McDormand, Cancer Survivors, Leslie Johnson McMichael, Signourny Weaver, Virgina Madsen, Laura Dern, Mia Hamm, Lauren H, Debbie Harry, Alejandra, Rebecca Miller, Mary J Blige, Virgina Wolfe, Loren L, Tina Turner, Lila Rafferty Wilson, Penelope Cruz, Lily Taylor, Dana Drolla Manly, Naomi Watts, Debbie Harry, Anne LaMotte, Roseanne Barr, Nicole Kidman, Elizabeth Goodremont, Gia not Angelina Jolie as Gia, Dana N, Captain Riley in Aliens, Michelle Pfeiffer, Catherine Hardwicke, Flannery O’Conner, The Golden Girls, Jen Grez, Carol Burnett, Lori D, Georgia O’Keefe, Lily Tomlin, Marge Piercy, Women Who Get The Bejesus Kicked Out of them on SuperBowl Sunday (highest day for rate of domestic violence btw), Thelma & Louise before they killed themselves, Salma Hayek, Single African American Women With 3 Jobs With 3 kids, Lynda Goodremont, Catherine Keener, Dorothy Parker, Libby Hartung, Wonder Woman, Jenny Carol, Debra Winger, Emotionally and Physically Abused Women (Married or Single), Frances Farmer, Christy Kurtz, Kate Beckinsale when she lived in the UK, Jenny B, my yoga mat, Janeane Garafolo, Sanaa Lathan, Jessica Lange, Paige Hoover, Susan Sarandon, Holly Hunter, Mother Teresa, Peggy from Mad Men, Kathy Ireland, Farrah Fawcett, Sarah Kurtz, Kate Jackson, Dana Ferguson, Jacyln Smith, Shirley McLaine’s character in Terms of Endearment, Carey, Maggie from Northern Exposure, Maude, Flamingo, Maya Angelou, Jane Hill Foster, Carie Otis, Kook, Mary Tyler Moore, Katie Ernst, Lorrie Moore, Teachers (not the ones sleeping with the Principal, student’s married father, their students), Jessica Tandy, Jamie Watson, Audrey Hepburn, Mo M, Karen Kolb, Toni Morrison, Pat Benatar, Barbara Kingsolver, MMF, Gloria Steinam, Jane Child, Tamara Sembritzky, Katherine Hepburn, Nancy Donaldson Larson, Charlotte, Ana Patel, Rachel Blagden Goodremont, Clara Whitmore, Audrey Tatou, Laura Falb, Eden, Chrissy Hynde, Connie Flesvig Bane, Rachel Lechter, Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, Charlie’s Angels, Laura F, Cameron Diaz, Kristen The Cake Maker, Mandy Q,  Parker Posey, Lisa Cummings, Salt & Pepa, the Asian actresses in one of the best movies on the face of the planet: Oldboy, Jennifer Jennings Bassin, all the actresses in all Almodovar films, Chantal Ackerman, Tia Leone, Tamara Hawkinson,

Laura San Giacomo

she just happened to be the last name on my list,

yet,

it she this list even more meaning!

because,

“We are not Cindafuckinrella.”

We might just look

the

highheeling,

because

kicking goals,

wearing high heels,

can go hand and hand.

“Aren’t you 5′9?”

Can come in handy in the world of business.

Keep the glass slipper and that ridiculous dress.

Please please please do not take out a small loan in order to take your daughters to American Girl.

It’s that time of the year again!

Allergy, Thanksgiving, Cold & Sinus, Christmas, Flu, Hannukah season,

The Flemings are allergy and sinus sufferers.

It’s no wonder our last name is Fleming! 

My brother Patrick and I both have deviated septums which means

that we have scar tissue

that jams stuff up,

“Frozen Tears,”

Some Self Help writers like to attribute it to Frozen Tears,

“Frozen Tears! I have a deviated friggin septum!”

My brother Patrick who has been blown out of a portable toilet like a human cannon ball,

flying,soaring,

over catering tent, catering mobile home, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, trucks, 50 feet! or yards!

crash landing into the side of the Columbia River Gorge.

He survived this ride through the air without brain damage,

He suffered minor superficial injuries (shattered leg, shattered shoulder) 

But, he will have to speak with you about any other further,

He has referenced it in one of his blog entries,

Anyway,

Even after experiencing an accident of this magnitude,

Accident, accident in high school,  

Even after being released from St. Tammany Parish Hospital with a leg that wasn’t broken but really was,

Even after breaking his collar bone while riding the red Spree down West Ruelle and smashing into a parked car,

Even after a reopening a head wound that I can’t recall how he got, but we were eating cheese fries at Cooter Brown’s at 4am, his non broken leg in a cast,

Even after countless accidents,

My brother Patrick,  

My brother Patrick had the Deviated Septum Surgery,

“I felt like they were removing my insides,”

That’s what he said!

post surgery,

the long, long, long tissue, gauze,  

that holds the insides of your nose together,

“That’s the worst feeling I have ever felt.”

That’s what he said!

When the doctor or the nurse removed the long long long gauze.

I believe my brother Patrick and I have avoided the surgery.

However, because I have a deviated septum,  

when I have the sniffles,

I can be sitting in the passenger seat of a Suburu,

with the slightest bit of air,  enjoying the sights, the views,

Six Flags, Bong Recreation Center, Apple Cider House, Kris Kringle,

skydivers landing on a stretch of Wisconsin land,     

before I know it,

the sniffles become packed into my head.

I’ve had this condition way back,

As a kid,

with each move, each city,

each presented its unique brand of sniffle

When I moved from Houston, Texas from Los Angeles, California,

when I was 30-years-old,

I had already retired the Claritins (this brand made me edgier than normal, which, back then, was impossible to fathom), and Allerga,

In HTown,

I was diagnosed with a dust allergy and asthma.

Who isn’t allergic to dust?!

But, yet,

Allergy, Asthma 

weren’t going to stop me,

I shopped vintage stores,

year after year, city after city,

crawling around the floor, searching for the mate to the perfect pair of roach kickers!!,

breathing in the moldy history,

I walked Commonwealth Avenue, Hollywood Boulevard,

year after year, city after city,

walking around outside, on the sidewalks next to car after car,

breathing in the thick city pollution,  

Boston, Los Angeles,

(if you saw someone on foot in LA, you assumed a petty crime had occurred, but I still walked to my grocery store and ran errands on my flat feet)

I ran the mile in high school,

until I moved to a town without a track team,

But, in my 30’s  

I was a runner,

running through the thick buttered air,

in Houston.

I’ve tried everything!

the steroid based inhalers,

the scrip after scrip, the Zyrtec which works but knocks me out cold,

the sleep that can rob one of one’s dreams,

the special zippered protective bedding,

the sound making dust catching machine

(I forget the name but it was friggin expensive)

You name it, I tried it.

I remember calling my mom one day in the six years that I lived in Houston:

“I feel good today!”

1 day in the 6 years I lived there,

I could breathe freely!

My last year in Houston,

Each week, for a year,

I finally decided I could find the time in my busy glued to my desk schedule to get my doctor recommended course of treatment,

I got the allergy injections,

You get injected with what you are allergic to.

Dust Injections.

Each time I went,

I visualized the dust mites,

crawling through my veins,

running loose and free inside of me,

like that ad for Mucinex (of course I have tried that too!) 

have you seen a photo of dust mites?

they are yucky.

When I got transfered to Chicago from Houston when 2 major banks merged,

five years or so ago,

or something like that,

I had to get the battery of tests all over again,

This time I didn’t pretend as though I could get poked and injected with 50+

ragweed, cashew nuts, Fido, my gang Dust Mites,

and go back to work, like I did before.

“You don’t have any allergies and you don’t have asthma!”

This was my diagnosis,

the first year I moved to Chicago.

Over the years,

five,

I have remained mostly allergy and asthma symptom free.

The reason I started writing this piece in the first place is because I wanted to share some helpful tips that you can incorporate into your every day of chores and just whenever you think of it.  These tips are designed to help you with your own sniffles, conjested head, the holiday season:

1) Wash the Dishes.  Open the dishwasher when the wash cycle has just finished, breathe in that hot air

2) Do the Laundry. Open the dryer when the dryer cycle has just finished, breathe in that hot air

3) Take Baths and Showers.  It is entirely possible that I will take over 10 per day, even when I am on vacation and visiting friends.  It is pathetic.  Although I am known to take some creative license when writing (see my Notes from the Desk of a Narcissist posts, i.e)  I am not spinning a yarn.  Call my mom, she can vouch for me because when she has her blinding sinus issues, she calls me from the bath tub.  Seriously.  I can also give you the names of friends whose homes I have visited and have asked if it is okay if I take a bath because it will make me feel better.  You would think I would just get the friggin surgery.  I just believe my brother Patrick who has an insane, record-breaking threshold for pain and hate the thought of elected surgery. I’m not going to get on my soapbox about breast enhancements and liposuction.  But, I do have a hilarious story about an actor whom I spent a night with who thought I had aforementioned enhancement.  I tried to explain to him that I was a very very very late 32D bloomer, but he wouldn’t believe me.  Years later, when I was sitting at a local theater, I looked up to see him about two inches away from me, he was the lead in the play I was about to see.  He is also linked to me via Facebook via a film group.  Of course.

4) Drink Hot Tea or Coffee.  I’m know to immerse my entire head into my beverage just to get small blast of hot steam and the hot drink feels so good in my throat.  Patrick, whom I see about twice a year, will comment: “You sure drink a lot of hot beverages.”  Please note: if you go the coffee route, be mindful to drink a ton of water because I have been known to drink too much caffeine which leads to dehydration which is another blog entry, or not.

5) Practice Yoga. Try Accupuncture. Take Chinese Herbs.  Visit your local yoga studio, talk to someone about alternative ways to treat your cold, flu, allergy.  I have found with time and practice, yoga helps.  There are many types of yoga.  Bikram Yoga works for me.  It is one of the more intense forms of yoga: 26 postures repeated twice, in 105 degrees for 90 minutes.  I need the most intense form of yoga for lots of reasons but I have always been athletic and like all the benefits of a workout.  But! The benefits of Bikram Yoga are different than others: The 90 minute detox helps me inside and outside (it’s a free facial! and external detox which really becomes an internal detox too – I am an efficient sortie).  Core Power is also good but these are the more intense forms of yoga; there are many options out there.  Accupuncture also helps. I’ve worked with an accupuncturist who created a customized treatment for me and can do the same for you.  I had to get over my terrific fear of needles (it took me two years to change the gold training posts when I got my ears pierced for the first time and when I get a shot I have to be horizontal and bring a photo of a cooing smiling newborn baby or a soft cuddly animal) but, accupunture has helped me tremendously.  Also, some insurance carriers are now accepting accupunture as a form of treatment, so submit your invoice to your carrier.  I need to look up the name of the Chinese herb that I am taking for my allergy and sinus symptoms, I will, I am just being lazy right now and thinking about my first cup of coffee.

6) Laugh and Smile.  This is my #1.  But, I didn’t want you to think I have gone all soft and cheese whiz and you would stop reading the rest of my helpful tips.  This is particularly important to remember during Forced Family Fun outing such as the annual church service or eating a fruitcake at your uncle’s house. 

1-6 will all help you to survive the holiday season and will also give you untold benefits of giving the appearance of being super duper helpful when you are really just helping yourself breathe, relax and feel better during the inevitable mayhem and chaos of the holiday season.

Optional Tips: Drink So Heavily that you either forget to eat the fruitcake/you do eat it and “This Fruitcake is the Best Fucking Thing I Have Ever Tasted!” (PLEASE! have someone else drive you and your mini mes home!), Get the Swine Flu and/or Flu Shot advertised on the bag of caramel corn at Walgreen’s or your local drug store, Inhale Zicam Intense Sinus Relief and Injest Zyrtec,  Eat, Eat, Eat and Sit on the couch watching football game after football game (Geaux Saints!)…   

I do wish ya’ll the bestest for this cold, flu, allergy, sinus and holiday season!

I do want you to know that there will be more posts about past holidays outings with Flamingo such as the night spent at a bar called Butch McGuires where Huey Lewis was stalking me with his eyes (of course I approached him, it was Huey Lewis! and I had to get away from a married man, see below) while 100 guys dressed as Santa Claus for a charitable cause were getting wasted.  The married guy asked me if I would be interested in having an affair with him while his hot and cool as shit wife sat at his left elbow, talking to her husband’s sister-in-law (his wife and I did look alike, I was just a smaller version, his wife brought up my size, not me) I told the married guy  he needed to have his affair with his wife, walking away to talk to Huey Lewis.

I have been waiting forever.

(the love is set up,

not sung)

Those are stolen Guster lyrics.

But!

I was just thinking yesterday,

I am a sucker for love.

“You have to be ready to choose!” 

“Choose the 1, rather than be chosen.”

An old, but new, friend wisely said to me two weeks ago.

 I loved her all over again for that.

Because,

like me,

like so many of us,

we walk around with broken hearts.

Red, Purple,

Runny, Hard

Tender, Raw

We all do

We all come by it honestly

Some of us hide.

Some of us cry.

Some of us curl up inside

Some of us try and try and try

Some of us break some hearts by accident

I know I have.

I know I have over,

reacted

and

acted

harshly

Toward

Another

heart that was close to mine,

But,

I come by the over-reacting, the harshly

honestly,

But.

I do apologize.

I am not going to go all High Fidelity,  

here’s my sincerest apology:

I am sincerely sorry.

Some,

Single.

Some

Married.

But,

even if I am a sucker for love,

I love that I am a sucker for love.

I have,

never ever

felt

I have made any mistakes in love,

Because,

With each heart,

I know,

this brings me closer,

but,

truth b told:

I have a revision to

my

SWF41

blog entry

1 year later

SWF42

visits with my nephew and friends with kids,

There is no fucking way I am going to be an old woman (if I met someone today, I would be 45! married or single) giving birth.

People love love love to tell me stories about these over fifty-year-olds giving birth.

I think: Poor Child

It is embarrassing, for that child,

I think about that child in class with age appropriate parents,

me at retirement age with a 10-year-old!

Forget about it!

True,

I had one teary day.

I have to thank one of my brother’s best friends who is my friend too,

He made me feel better because I was feeling sad that one day,

Because one day, we have a sad day,

Because one day, we have not sad days.

Call it happy!

Even if I am a single, childless forty-something,

I have my nephew, another one on the way, my godson and his sister, my friends children

It’s IMPOSSIBLE FOR SOME TO IMAGINE!

It is enough for me.

“What I admire the most about you is your inner strength,

your ability to not settle for just any ole guy,”

a dear friend said to me.

What time,

Waiting 42 years

gives you is:

“I waited this long for that?”

It’s good and bad. 

True

Friend

Friends,

Single,

Married

The married ones who have never lived alone are the absolute worst!

Because, unsolicited opinions on my choices, my life.

Because what those talking heads don’t see is: Me.

Because, for most,

it is too much to bear.

bare.

an Empty House.

But, for me,

an empty house gives me

more time to run loose and free in my playground of my imagination.

Because, for most,

it is too much to

be seen

at the movies solo,

But for me, going to movies solo,

was a course requirement because I went to film school!

most men like to tell me what to think, most men like to tell me what I need

most men don’t see me,

okay, they see me, they just don’t want to believe me

can’t even imagine that I would choose to be alone

than to be spending Saturdays at Bed Bath and Beyond and watching a football game,

but, I think that is just the way it goes,

most men, with women,

think that is what they need to do,

to tell what to thinkneed.

I guess that is the way it goes with some women,

But!

I think my gender was switched at birth.

“You have to be ready to choose, rather than be chosen.”

I finally know exactly

what her words.

what she means.

It’s about forty-two-years time!!!

Does anyone have Viggo Mortenson’s telephone number?

(i’m kidding,

really)

I love skateboarders, surfers.

Always have,

always will.

Blame it on the neon yellow skateboard I got when I was 8,

I didn’t take the bus,

I took my

 neon yellow skateboard,

to get to Beechwoods Elementary.

Because I lived in the center of Ohio,

I didn’t know any surfers but me and my best friends,

did I mention all my best friends were boys?  

that I was the only girl?

we all had narrow plastic skate boards

and i am guessing that was my introduction to the feeling I had when I was on my skateboard,

like anything was possible,

even in a town named Greenhills, Ohio.

Maybe my love of skateboarders,

surfers is because their blind passion, dedication, hope for the next big jump, wave,

maybe that was just my own imagination at work,

maybe I thought if I rode that skateboard

the surfboard,

I would be transported out!  

Skateboarders, Surfers,

their passion,

their blind dedication

to a way of life and living

Rent/Netflix LORDS OF DOGTOWN

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lords_of_Dogtown,

most today,

think:

so antiquainted!

ain’t it quaint!

“You have issues with people that have money,” my mom has said to me on more than one occasion

because

in 

my past

from time to time

in 2009!!

I have been very very poor

I have displayed a very very hostile attitude snarl at the golf course, cocktail party,

Some people like to think that my love of skateboarderssurfers has something to do with them!

I don’t have issues with people who have $$$

I have issues with boring assholes and dickheads who have money.

rich, boring assholey dickheads hold no appeal,

somehow, many people, many women can get over what I cannot

I would prefer to eat baby food with a thimble for days on end 

than

date or

end up

married to a richly boring head named Dick.

I am never sure which comes first the 1)rich, 2) boring, 3)dickhead

nor do I care to do a SIX SIGMA, black belt, power point analysis

Also, my experience has been up to my forty plus point that people with money are mindnumbingly boring.  And, I have some experience, in college, attending an affluent targeted liberal college where I got, or lost.   But, it happened and the past is the past.

But, that school was graduated with dickheads.  Boring too.

Many come to mind but there is no reason to single out

or out them!

because I am sure,

I believe in Karma and he/them will get what they deserve in the end/no matter how many sun salutations, nature walks,

all are married

I love surfers

and when Flamingo was living in San Diego,

and I was living in LA

in our late 20s

I would drive my 1985 red honda prelude from LA to SD

and

hang out with Flamingo in Mission Viejo with

surfers,

I met a surfer there and we started to hang out, and about

in and out,

“Who is that?”

Flamingo’s dad, TK was in town,

visiting

and,

I was “dating” a surfer

and,

since

I was visiting

and,

I am not sure where the surfer lived,

we were on the futon in the middle of the kitchen in the middle of the room,

TK was asking Bobby,

Bobby didn’t live with Flamingo but he would hang out

I liked Bobby a lot

he was very smart

he was very into some

thing,

Bobby didn’t say anything to TK,

but,

I knew I was going to have to say something,

since I knew Flamingo since 8th grade,

this was/is one of my more embarrassing moments.

“It’s me, Mr….”

I was always convinced that that would be the story that he would tell at my wedding,

during my wedding toast,

but,

that day has yet to come,

shortly after that weekend,

Bobby overdosed

and died.

Several weeks ago,

TK died.

I wish I still had my neon yellow skateboard.

I have seen a lot of shit in my forty-one, nearly two.  But, this takes the cake:

I was too scared to get closer to him.

The Amish Building Stalker.

I was walking home from buying printer cartridges in the hidden gem of an office supply store, a locally owned store in the Hancock Building where everything from eraser tip to permanent ink is cheaper than my true, Walgreens.

I looked to my right and there he was.  I know the photo does not do him justice but I was too terrified of the frozen, standing in the street across from my building Amish Building Stalker to get any closer.  And, I was the one who went to work in the broken apart at the seams Fox building post Northridge earthquake.

His silent stature,

His pointy black hat,

His long, long, long hairy beard,

His long, long, long, arms glued at attention,

His 3 piece suit!

As I ran into my building 

and told Francisco and Marcus,

Operations Manager and the Odd Jobs Man

I told that there was something the matter with that guy!

Francisco is a friend, he is used to having to come to my condo and help me move furniture that I have attempted to move on my own (there have been several dropped urns, lots of scratched wood floors, there was once an iron incident, and I always have stubborn bruises)

We had one embarrassing incident once,

 He was helping me put a desk together and in the other room, the tv was on, and the incredibly horrible and overrated film Beautiful Children was on – we both tried to ignore Kate Winslet and Patrick Wilson’s heavy breathing  and animal noises, I mean it was really embarrassing. And,  I am not the shy type.   But, I can be.  I turned the tv off as quickly as I could and we put that desk together.  At that time, a year plus ago, he was about to be a father and he was excited but nervous because he is in his twenties and so was his wife and she had to go on bed rest.  So, we chatted about his upcoming fatherhood.

He asked and is always asking me about how I am doing and if I am dating anyone,

today,

he is still married,

his wife is off bedrest 

but

she hasn’t gone back to work,

with

one pay check and one tiny Francisco at home,

I don’t complain at all.

Seriously.  Which shows some terrific personal development here!

here and there,

I am singley the same, but that is neither here nor there:

There he is!

Francisco looked at The Amish Building Stalker

 in the tv monitor

Francisco,

Marcus:

“Yeah, the three piece suit is a little odd,”

 Amish don’t wear three piece suits,”

as my witnesses!

I,

If I wrote this entry,

walked away to get some more coffee

or do some more laundry,

or unsucessfully puree some brussel sprouts and end up with a delicious new surprise which sounds terrifically disgusting but is terrifically YUMMY, BS SOUP!!!,

and I read it,

I would probably think that I made it up.

But, it was real.

“He is undercover!”

I think Oprah hired him because of  a tongue in cheek blog entry I wrote last year involving her three white labs, who were featured on one cover and never heard from again until very recently, I saw one! 

Marcus,

god bless him,

he was hired as a doorman

but

he just does odd jobs here and there

and he is most helpful!

Marcus

brilliantly observed

It’s that three piece suit,

it’s all off.

The revelation that Barbra Streisand is releasing a new

album will not impact my bank account

or my immediate SINGLE marital status,

or my recent medical results,

or my musical stylings,

however,

 because  the Queen Crooner isn’t dead,

I thought she was dead, didn’t you?

gives me some hope about LOVE and RELATIONSHIPS.

Because everyone knows that money is to be + and -,  

and no one including major music makers are interested in losing $$,

here ya go, here’s why I know she ain’t dead:

I got an email from Borders Books with a coupon for Babs’ most recent love stylins,

Babs is known for her love ballads, and although I am more of I can find love in a Queens of the Stone Age song, 

even though their songs,  their lyrics are about addiction but their music, their lyrics

 are music to my ears!!, up and down, back and forth! before I know it I am in LOVE!

“We met on FB!”

I just met this woman and within the span of a workday hour

she has 

consumed 

3 V&Ts,

smoked

5 Natural Spirits,

 professed

1 night stand at her HS reunion,

+

1 affair with a former HS Boyfriend on the horizon

 ”INSERT NAME” wants to add you as a friend on Facebook.

Ah, Facebook!

So many friends, so little time!

Friends that weren’t friends when you saw eyeball to eyeball, head to head,

Yet,

See how MANY “FRIEND” I have!

virtually!

“I met him,

I got reconnected,

We got reconnected

We are connecting

On f*cking Facebook.

Several girl friends of mine, we have noticed that in several American Girl, Cookie magazine like photos,

there is no signficant other WIFEHUSBAND  is no where to be found!

“Well, somebody has to take the photo,” a friend said. 

Several male friends of mine, from different walks of life, from different times in my life,

They are on Facebook but their wives are not:

“She thinks Facebook is too high school”

High school with ash trays…

is an expression

said of Los Angeles.

…I am thinking of La La land because I am listening to the sound track of Pulp Fiction and,

Tim Roth’s voice,

Tim Roth has a cameo in the film Pulp Fiction,

he and his cinematic wife Amanda Plummer,

hunny bunny,

Hello,

He is saying hello to me!

He said to me

eye ball

to

eye ball

shoulder

2 shoulder

because everyone knows actors are petite! 

 The first month I moved to Los Angeles from Portland Oregon in the late ninties,

I had just seen the film Reservior Dogs,

I landed a job and am standing staring back at one of my biggest Hollywood crushes!

I am SPEECHLESS.

Mostly because I can recall that he is married,

So, instead of talking, getting to know my married Hollywood crush,

I walk away and hide in the ladies room.

When I come out,

he is waiting for me.

It must be true what they say about marriage,

that married couples only have sex three or four times a month,

because Tim Roth is waiting for me outside the ladies bathroom in the room of dresden.

Tim Roth is standing up, walking toward,

I turn away,

walking away,

I make my exit out the same door,

the same door in the film Swingers,

right before Vince V., Jon F.,  Ron L. and the actor whose name causes this brawl in the first place,

Sue, he, the character is named Sue,

from one of Johnny Cash’s songs,

Today, all those people, all the people I worked with during that time have Emmys, writing deals, famous friends and liasions, back then

when i was in my 20s,

Tim Roth wanted to talk to me

and I had short hair!

Tim Roth wanted to talk to me but I didnt have many friends to talkto

today,

Tim Roth is on

some

network television show

still married,

I believe,

and,

I do have many friends to talk to

I do have a nephew, a godson

and, I will take that any day over

high school with ash strays!

Stray,

Straight away,

my suggestion

my unsolicited “DOYOUHAVETOHAVEANOPINIONONEVERYTHING!?!”

is for Marrieds

to

“Friend”

your

wifehusbandspouse

and

maybe, perhaps, youtoo

will recapture, relive

something all of us have been refeeling,

the giddyvirtualunknownunchartered

affairs of the head and heart.

Just like that dumbass cheeseWHIZ Chris Columbus (i am not taking the time to validate this info and am proud if I got his name wrong, sorry…no offense Chris but you made millions off that song so i am clearly a fool) song involving a classfied ad and sunsets and long walks and umbrella drinks.