She gets me into new kinds of trouble.
Three nights ago, it was the "tupperware party" that involved lingerie and dildos. I won a whip, and won a contest involving licking out the white cream from a chocolate egg held between another lady's knees (whom I had never met before). It was a laugh.
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to keep my friends. Whilst describing our intentions to visit Paris in the near future to one of my friends back in Connecticut, I included how I was luring my 5-year-old into getting excited by telling her that we were going to visit where Madeline came from. Madeline-the little French cartoon girl-"In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines lived 12 little girls in 2 straight lines, the youngst of which was Madeline." Only, on this particular day, what slipped out of my mouth was "12 straight girls...." to my lesbian friend. Of course, my embarrassment caused me to repeat the phrase a couple of times whilst I fumbled to right the situation. She was patient.
And then there's my blog friends, whom I have become desparately sporatic with. Despite our friendships initiated from flickering screens and one-sided conversations, from our flimsy beginnings strong bonds have been foraged. They are patient too.
And finally, my long-time friends, whom I miss quite dearly. But, they too are patient and know that they are in my thoughts, even if I have not called in ages.
All this, born from reading another book, loaned from my new friend; part of a genre I consider "perspective reading." It's sort of a morbid St. Patrick's Day celebration (the Irish, my ancestors would not be proud: "where is my drink?"); a memoir of the the disturbing childhood of Kathleen O'Malley, set in Dublin, 1950. The traumatic events, but even more the appreciation of a tasty bit of bacon, a velvet-collared coat, hair ribbons, or the way your Mom curled your hair gently and told you you're beautiful....how can we not appreciate our lives and what we have? So cheers to my friends; you mean everything to me.