My Oldest Friend

My oldest friend calls herself “maudtimo” online and Monique Daviau (will remove if she doesn’t like being “outed”.)  She is a talented and prolific writer, currently studying the Michigan’s Master of Fine Arts Creative Writing Program.  I want everyone to know her name.  She writes well; she deserves it.

Probably if we met now, we would not be so close.  I am a no longer over-weight house wife who occasionally works with autistic tots.  I probably would not even get the chance to see her.  She is not hanging around church services and Bible studies and I’m not hanging out with the improv crowd. That makes me sad.  I’m limiting myself, I would love to be with other creative people.  The closest I get is crop (scrapbook) gatherings and I’ve never really been to a real one.  I work either by myself or with Small.  I think I enjoy it better that way.  I hardly admit to any kind of paper crafting at all.  This http://cocoacards.blogspot.com/2011/07/bookmark-with-origami-flower.html is why.  It’s embarrassing.  I’m more of a scrapbooking ninja (http://scrapbookninjas.com/).  

My birthday is tomorrow.  Did you remember?  In celebration Small and I have decorated the living space with birds.  (See Portlandia on youtube.)  We’re having a small dinner party hosted by my parents.  When my mother asked me where I wanted to go for dinner, I told her Five Guys.  They use peanut oil, you see.  My mother was disappointed.  “I thought you’d want to go some where nice.”  My husband gave me a “you’re being ridiculous” look.  She went upstairs and brought down this catering menu.  “This makes me want to throw a party,” she told me.  So, that is why we are having a nice, catered affair with eight of my closest friends.

My worse birthday was my sixteenth.  My dad wanted me to have a “coming-out” party, back when that was not gay.  I hadn’t enough friends to do it.  The day I drove my new car to school, I had no one to party with. I drove the friend, who is calling me a stalker in public internet venues, home.  After that I went to my brother’s middle school and chaperoned a dance.  It sucked.

That’s all for now.

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