Thursday, December 9, 2010

Cougar Commune

THERE ARE ONLY TWO PEOPLE IN MY *REAL LIFE* THAT KNOW ABOUT THIS BLOG. 

Both I trust with my life and have equal amount of dirt on.

One is *Rose*. Rose and I were actually born a few days apart in the same hospital in the same sad town and it is rumored we shared the nursery at one point.  She has cognitively been my friend since about age 3.  We were in the same dance class. Our very first dance was “Skip to my Lou” and during our very first recital, she pushed me on stage. (She tripped as we were “skipping to my Lou” in a circle, which caused a domino effect. I fell flat on my face and have a tendency to bring up this incident constantly.  All bad things stemmed from this.  It is all her fault.)   We have been friends ever since.  I am definitely the “peer pressure-er”:





She has been there through it all with me. When I first met Shamus, I used to about force her to come out to random bars with me and hold fat cops hands to get in because we weren’t 21.  We even work together now.  Well I am her boss, for real now, not just hypothetically.  I actually get paid to boss her around.  BONUS.   I leave random shit on her desk like this because I am genuinely concerned for her well being and don’t want her to get stabbed in the back by some Roman creep:


 


Oh stop.  Don’t feel that bad for her.  She holds her own.  She sends me shit like this when I’m sick.



So, yea, don’t feel all “omg-you’re-such-a-bitch-cause-you-boss-this-poor-girl-around-and-make-her-do-shit-she-doesn’t-wanna-do” bad for her. If she was a man I’d marry her.  Mostly because she gets me and I can fart in front of her. Both of which I can't say for anyone else.  We finish each other’s sentences and know exactly what we are thinking with a random look or hand gesture. 



I wub her.  (wub=love)  Even when she takes too long to get ready. Or makes excuses not to go out.  She definitely doesn’t fall for my shenanigans anymore.  If she doesn’t wanna go- she doesn’t.  Or just avoids me until I get so mad I show up at her house.  I wub her even though she is way skinnier than me and way prettier and I secretly wish I could use her body and my face to sext people. 
 


 That’s not really her. (Sickos! Why would I have a pic of my best friend like that?!) But it might as well be. Skinny whore.






"Fe" on Broadway


The second living breathing actual human that knows about this is someone I consider another version of me-except she’s much cooler and has done wayyyyyy more super cool things.  We will call her Fe.  (Fe is short for Feline. Long story but you kinda get it.)  Fe is a Broadway Star.
Fe's one true love.

 
                                                                              


                     She got out of this fuckin place and I am so jealous of everything she has done.  She has literally lived all around the world.  She is the single most talented person I know.  We are about 20 years apart in age; however , I truly believe there are bits and pieces of our souls that match, like a perfectly crafted puzzle. 



                       We are both the oldest in our shit-show families.  We grew up on the same street and our families are completely intertwined and crazy.  She is a gypsy.  She wanders from place to place spreading her talents all around the country and the world like some proverbial seed yet always keeps a place here and in NYC.  So many parts of me want to be her.  Wishing I wasn’t as afraid of the “gotta get the fuck outta here” attitude.  I think I live through her and she lives through me.  Even though we don’t see each other often, we try to make sporadic phone calls to fill one another in on the obscenities of the family or day or latest asshole.   She knows secrets about me that NO ONE in the world know.  Not even you.  





She encourages me to keep writing and is always my biggest fan.  Someday we will write all of our crazy stories into one big crazy chronicle. Then we will sell boat loads of books and make boat loads of money on our craziness and not have to actually pay for therapy, Xanax, & Zoloft.    Then perhaps we will live happily ever after with felines friends and lots of vodka and of course conjugal visits.  ( We will invite Rose too, because she like all of the above as well.)
~"Welcome to the Cougar Commune"~

AH, what a life it could be.  











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