Saturday, June 21, 2008

"But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s…"-Death Cab for Cutie

Ring-Ring! Ring-Ring!

"Guess who?"

I already know. Caller ID is a godsend. Still, I'm friendly; I'll play along, "Cosmo?"

"Shut up, stupid." Apparently friendlier than she is. It's ok, she's teasing. It's our game.

"Good to hear from you too! What's up?"

"I'm in the doghouse."

"And you're sure you're not Cosmo?"

"Yes."

She's got a good sense of humor so I string her along for a bit about missing my birthday. That's why she's calling now. Well the birthday. She's calling for the birthday, not the stringing.

"I think I missed a whole week!"

"And that just happened to be the week of my birthday?"

"Yes! Exactly! I am so sorry."

"It's fine." She also thinks I'm 2 years younger than I actually am, so I'm in a very forgiving mood.


Who is it? It's one of my oldest friends. Well she's older than me, but I've also known her longer than almost anybody. I was in her wedding, and she'd have been in mine if she weren't busy raising a dairy family in Minnesota. Maybe should blame her for the collapse of my marriage. I showed up for her wedding, and it's still going strong. What kind of friend is she?


Still, it's good to hear from her; it's like having another birthday without getting older. I'm all for that. We were on the phone for hours just catching up. I told her all about my blog, she doesn't read it. She doesn't have the internet. I guess it's a Minnesota thing. They also kill mammoths for their pelts and communicate with rocks. She tells me she flew to North Dakota just to use a pay phone to call me.


Hey Minnesota! Don't blame me, I'm only the California friend. It's her information, not mine. I'm simply relaying what I was told. Don't hate me because I'm bronzed and beautiful.


As for the rest of you, let me appologize. I was typing out another blog when she called but she inturrupted my brilliance. Instead, you get this thing. Kind of sucks, huh?


Well Here's what I had so far:


I don't want to be a whiner, but when it comes to planning a day, a thermometer that reads 106 kind of limits the things I file as "enjoyable." I guess that's why I'm lucky I work today: not much planning required.


Still, according to what everybody says, I'm supposed to get back out there. I'm supposed to show my best side, and let the women know I'm available. Uhm, how can I do that when my pores are spitting sweat faster than a forked water balloon?


I've been told several times about my good qualities, "Sweat of sugar water" is not one of them.


Yeah sorry, you really weren't getting dealt a winner either way. In fact it looks like the cards were stacked against you. She did ask me about my dating life. She's a good friend she's still curious.


"Well, I'm really not dating yet."

"Why not?"

"Well I'm still wearing the ring. I've been told it drives the girls off."

"Well, at least the quality ones, yes. Take off the ring!"

"I've only got a month left, I might as well ride it out."

"Oh for God's sake! Take off the $#%@'n ring and get out there!"

Yeah, I don't remember this mother quality, but she's now Tasering me from the nest. "I will, but you know, I'm just taking my time."

"You're just a chicken shit."

"What? How do you figure that? You're wearing it as an excuse, now get out there."


Well, I'm not necessarily saying she wrong, so I thanked her for her opinion and told her, "you're wrong."

"Fine, prove me wrong, get out there."

She's a pushy friend. I don't remember ever being so glad she lived in Minnesota. If she were here, she'd be setting me up. I know it.


Still, it's good to have friends, and it's really cool that she cares, and she thinks I'm 2 years younger. I could use more friends like that.

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