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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Friends are Forever

Ali3.bmp Yesterday my friend of 34 years, Alison, (We've been friends since we were both 15, so that would make us - uh - hmmmm - uh - 49), flew to North Carolina from New Mexico to visit little ol' me.  We hadn't seen each other in 16 years (She sang at Bob's and my wedding) as our lives got busy after that and she moved to Florida and then New Mexico with her then Airline Pilot husband.  We always manage, though, to catch up with each other and it is always as if the years never passed. 

Suddenly, we're 16 again and driving to the Naval Academy in Annapolis to find ourselves some sweetie-pie in a white uniform and dancing till the sun comes up.  Or going to California Inn in Laurel, Maryland (what a smoke-infested dump), or hanging out at the beach in Ocean City.  Or, or, or.....

We never grew up.  Well, kinda.  I mean, today we got up at 9am, went to breakfast, and both of us came back home and went to bed for a nap - a long nap.  Talk about a couple of old fuddie-duddies.  (Oh, excuse me, we're not "old")  We slept for 5 hours.  Zonked. 

Now, if I had my stinkin' camera charger I would have had my Big Bear take a picture of this crazy duo.   Imagine this - Alison is 5'8", thin, made up to the hilt, with pajama bottoms and this huge exotic scarf wrapped around her in the sexiest of ways with this long, flowing, blonde hair and standing next to her is me - 5'5", short, gray hair in my mother's long t-shirt that reads: "Hold me, Hug me, Squeeze me, Pretend that I'm your Remote Control."   Not a pretty sight.

Ali standing.jpg by you.

Now, imagine this - we stumble out of my mother's room (where we were nappin' and giggling like a couple of schoolgirls), and our hair is all messed up, and we both sit on the sofa, feet up, laptop desks and laptops in action - typing, typing, typing.  Sarah looks at both of us and says "You two are pathetic."  - ya think?

So here we sit - she is sitting to my left looking at hot guys on Match.com and I'm sitting here typing this post.  I'll have to take pictures.  Or better yet, I'l post some pictures of Alison that she sent me.  She's available.  She's lookin'.  She's talking to my ex-husband on the phone right now.  (that is the truth).  Now this is what you call a real hook-up.


AlisonandRoadster.jpg by you.

Okay, this is ridiculous - she is emailing all these honey-pies on Match.com.  Lordy Mercy - all these hot guys after Alison.  Me - the friend - the fuddy-duddy of them all. 

She did say she had to hook me up - but not with a man - with Oprah.  Can you guess what for?  How'd you guess.  Yes, a makeover.  Or better yet, just give me a comfortable bed, a fat down comforter, and a place to plop my head - I'm happy.




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