I've remembered you on almost every 4/4 since 1995 and sent birthday wishes your way wherever you are. Whatever you are doing with your life, I hope that it is spectacularly different like everything about you used to be.
Do you remember the shade of lipstick you loved to wear - the one we called "the drug addiction color" ? Well, that's a hard shade to come by these days. Of course it was the perfect shade for you.
I'm not sure when it was that we finally lost touch. It was not one of those slowly fading out of touch deals. More digital than analog as I recall. What else should I have expected from you. I still have some of those cute letters your little sister wrote to me. She must be a grown up woman now. Kids put me in touch with my mortality when I see them after a while.
Soup - in the grand scheme of things you and I are history. We are from the time of 284 processors. The postman delivered mail. Friendship braids were handmade, birthday greetings were made with construction paper and glossy magazine cut-outs. I laughed until tears rolled down my eyes when I read some of your more than usually hilarious letters. Do you remember the one in which you had sagely observed that P was displaying some "broad shouldered friendship" ?
No, don't get your hopes up. We talked about being more than friends once. Rather he talked and I demurred. There was some more talk there after. Nothing that could or did lead to holy matrimony. No, I am not in touch with him. I am sure he has found it well worth his while to move on with his life. I was married, I have a daughter but I'm single again. You know how that works. Please find something side splitting to say about my situation, I am finding it increasingly difficult to see any obvious humor in it.
I'm sending this note out to blogosphere and from there on to where ever it may go acquiring a life of it's own. Still hoping what we will get in touch again some day, one day. Soup, I sure hope you're still boned up in being hysterically funny because I'm going to need to laugh until the neighbors wake up. It's been too many years since I was able to do that. In the interim, have a great birthday and look like a million bucks like you always did.
I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...
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