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2003-04-15 || 9:06 p.m. || happy birthday dear julie || i should be working on a fabulous card for my oldest best friend's birthday (oldest not because she's old, nay; oldest because we've been best friends for twenty-one years. twenty-one years and in kindergarten she had long long hair in two braids and i was the tallest and she was the shortest and she was so bossy and i was so shy and there is a picture of us somewhere in terribly jazz recital outfits with the words to some barry manilow song (jump shout boogie?) pounded into our heads from hours and hours and hours of rehearsing at miss nina newman's dance studio. and her mum and mine were our girl scout leaders and her family called me olga the cleaning lady for my week long visiting stints in the summer and she worked at the baskin robbins on main street in huntington beach and she introduced me to the almighty thrift store and the importance of stewardess uniforms for every day high school use. and she made me mixed tapes and i wrote her letters and she went away to school and she skanked it up in the middle of mosh pits and her boyfriend did drugs and we smoked cloves in a park in ventura and then she got married and i have been the free-spirited single friend offering free stays and stories from elementary school ever since. oh. twenty-one years.) but. yes. that's what i should be doing. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |