I'm here at my mother's house in Saginaw, typing on a keyboard that won't stop jiggling. It's like I'm blogging on Charlie's Angels' breasts or something.
Oh. I moved the keyboard down. Now I'm good.
So, we're here. We didn't get here till 10, because we stopped outside of Detroit to visit one of my oldest friends, who I am cleverly going to call Donna. Donna and I met the very first day, first hour of high school. She'd gone to North Junior High and I had gone to South, and we had the same hair, which as you can imagine shot us to the top of the popularity echelon at both our schools.
I went to my homeroom that first day of high school. I had on a burgundy plaid shirt with a white Peter Pan collar, which shot me even further up the popularity echelon. Can you shoot up an echelon? The point is, I saw someone with June hair among the silent-as-a-tomb homeroom and our eyes met.
It turns out the reason the homeroom was silent was everyone was deaf as a post in our room. Everyone. Except us. Oh, and this guy Tom, who was a genius and socially awkward. I mean, he made my plaid short look like I was Bianca Jagger riding into Studio 54 on my white horse. Somehow, the three of us were put in with all the otherwise deaf kids. Is it politically incorrect to say deaf?
We came up with a theory that they took the loudest girl from each junior high and put them in the room where no one could hear them scream.
The point is, as a result of our hair and the fact that we could, you know, hear, Donna and I bonded from day one of high school. Plus, we were in gym together and it turned out we both had a deep love of sports and athletic talents far exceeding all the other people in school.
Once our gym teacher just shook his head at us and told us God helps those who help themselves.
Eventually we somehow DID become socially acceptable in school, and right before senior prom, someone asked me what I was wearing, and I said, "Donna and I are wearing matching long lavender dresses, made of taffetta." Taffetta. The official fabric of 1983.
Later, I was around a corner and heard someone say, "Well, if Donna and JUNE are wearing long dresses, everyone will." I was all, seriously? Have you met our hair?"
Anyway, now Donna has a real job and a husband and children like an actual adult, and I'm all, I watched her pass out on a floor after drinking run and diet frosh, but okay. I guess I'll accept this new Donna.
So we met at a restaurant, and she asked Ned, "What is your life story, Ned? Tell us everything." And Ned was all, "Well, I was born--"
"Oh, that reminds me of a story!" one of us would say, and launch into a story, and then the other would tell a story, and then we'd say, "Oh my god, Ned. As you were saying...."
"Well, I was--"
"OH MY GOD! Did I tell you...?"
I don't think Ned ever got past his first day of life in that life story.
So now Ned is sleeping, and who can blame him for feeling drained after that, and my mother and stepfather are walking their dog, the one who attacked Tallulah when she was a puppy and no I'm NOT over that yet. A mother never forgets.
Tonight my Uncle Leo and Aunt I-blame-Sue are coming over, and tomorrow we drive three hours to stay with my cousin Katie the lesbian. Imagine if this were your first time reading this blog. You'd be all, "WHO?"
Okay, I will talk at you later. As soon as I see Hulk I will burst in with a special bulletin.
Leading the class of '83 in promwear,
P.S. This week's Purple Clover.