Here comes the turnip truck!
First, a note to all my subscribers: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I am so happy to have 20 subscribers in the first week! You are the most important people in my life right now and everything I do I do for you. No. I did not mean to quote a song just then. Seriously. Thank you. I sent my first two emails announcing my new blog site and begging people to subscribe to over 160 people and 20 of you subscribed. I would like to know why the other 140 didn’t bother, but that is neither here nor there because YOU, current subscribers, are the people to whom I’m dedicating this post.
Another note to subscribers: please don’t read this post from your email – go to the blog page so I can tally how many hits I’m getting. I’m obsessed with those darn stats! Besides, the real blog page has more pizzazz. Love you all (and by “all” I mean my subscribers). XO
(For those of you unfamiliar with the “XO” notation, it means hugs and kisses.)
OK. This is my 4th blog post. I’m so glad I made it this far. I’m starting to feel like all the trouble it took me to build this blog site was not for nothing. Actually, I’m surprised at how technically savvy I am becoming on this blogging machine. I didn’t think it was possible.
So, as I paid homage to Oprah in my last post I need to pay something to Tina in this one. The way I see it, Tina Fey and I are a lot alike. We have similar writing styles (though Tina’s is a little wittier than mine – and way more grammatically correct. I’ve never been great at spelling or grammar. It’s a curse that I will live with until the day I die – and I’m not dying until I reach the age 100 so I have a long road ahead of me of feeling inadequate.). She is pretty and I aspire to be pretty. I don’t even want to be beautiful pretty. Averagely pretty will do. And, we have both been on the hometown (she from New York and me from Boston) to Bermuda cruise and experienced annoying situations. (Tina, I know you would say this is an understatement in your case, but I’m trying to average out our levels of irritation. If you, the reader of this blog, want to read more about Tina’s annoying cruising experience, go buy her book: Bossypants.)
Tina, if you want to be friends, there is plenty of room in my life for someone as fabulous and fun as yourself. All you have to do is say the word. You can be my Manhattan bestest! (Laura is already my Brooklyn bestest.) I’m sure Amy Poehler won’t mind sharing!
Besties = Best Friends Forever = BFFs = Bestestes
That’s BEST – EST – ES … NOT Beasts
Now on to some of my real-life bestest friends. Please don’t be offended if you are not noted as one of my bestestes on this post. It doesn’t mean anything.
Many of you do not know my friend Margaret. Margaret is my Bestest [friend] in Massachusetts. I have two other bestestes: Nicole in Georgia and Kerry B in North Carolina.
None of my bestestes really like sharing me with other friends. I think this is very nice. It makes me feel special. Seriously, I am not complaining. After all, I put a lot of work into convincing all three of them that I was the bestest friend that they each had in the entire world and they believed me. Cultivating such powerful friendships is very time-consuming and exhausting. So, I’m glad they appreciate my efforts.
Margaret was one I aggressively pursued a friendship with for years before she even noticed me (Noooo, Jim, I did not stalk her) and then I brainwashed her into thinking I was her bestest friend in the whole wide world and we became buddies. Margaret dreams of owning her very own Dairy Queen one day. MMM MM! I looooove DQ! I hope she tosses her nursing career aside and buys this little ice cream hut. It would make me very happy.
Another little tidbit about Margaret is that she hates to talk on the phone. Our relationship continues to be forged on nothing but a multitude of text messages. Margaret doesn’t care that she could get thumb disease from texting on her cell phone all day long. I, too, feel this is a better way to die than, say, holding a cell up to your brain and getting a tumor. That would be painful.
Kerry is a very unique individual. Firstly, she thinks she gets personal emails from Oprah. She doesn’t.
Nextly, she loves to go to rodeos and country line dance. Actually, she was once smitten with a rodeo clown named Kermit whom she met when we were country dancing at Billy’s in Peabody, MA. It’s true. Even I can’t make up stuff this crazy. It never really worked out with Kerry and Kermit because his job was just too dangerous. She would have nightmares every night that he was getting head-butted by a bull. Ouch! Find the barrel, Kermit!
Finally, Kerry B’s dream is to one day become a professional wrestler like George Clooney’s current girlfriend, what’s-her-name Keibler Cracker. I hope Kerry gets her wish. That would be nice.
And what is Nicole’s dream? Nicole wants to be a folk singer. When we were in our 20s she would ask me to sit on the couch in her living room and watch her give would-be concert performances. She was good, but she couldn’t catch a break. It’s all in who you know, I guess. I bet Oprah could make her dream come true.
Nicole now lives in Georgia with her family. Nicole doesn’t want to Skype with me so I never see her anymore. She doesn’t like to use any kind of phone device so I never talk to her. And she is morally opposed to all things Internet, so we never email. Heck! For all I know she moved to India by now. No. I’m just being grumpy. I’m sure one day we will make contact with each other again. That would be a miracle.
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.