Since the boss is away today, and I very responsibly got all (most) of my work done, I'm thinking I can take a minute to blog...and don't think I won't be sneaking out my notebook to write...that's next.
I have been thinking today... of a childhood time that I'd love to make a story out of. A significant person that made an impact.
Mine is an old friend. In the third grade, we got a new kid at school, and she and I became inseparable. She was the only "divorced kid" I'd ever met. Tells you something about the times changing, huh? She lived with her mom in an apartment complex...another novelty to me then. I was enamored with going over there and spending night after night eating junk out of bags and mac and cheese from a box and going swimming because--duh! There was a pool! She introduced me to staying up all night and watching Saturday Night Live (in the days of Rosanna Rosannadanna) which I'd never seen before, and I learned about laying on a blanket on the floor watching Sat Night Live and Star Search eating nacho cheese doritos and bean dip in a can. To this day, bean dip is an instant nostalgia, I'm back in the third grade. She was so worldly, had Showtime (when that's all there was--remember Mr Bill?) knew all the songs to Grease, knew all kinds of cool dance moves, was allowed to tape Teen Beat pictures to every inch of her walls, and was a free spirit. I thought she had the best life in the world.
To her, I had a house, a yard, a dog, real cooked meals that were cooked by my mom and not me, a room that you didn't hear the neighbors through the walls, and structure. A mom that didn't spend her evenings drinking. My house had rules and boundaries. She craved it. I never saw that till I was grown looking back.
I remember now her talking about going to visit her dad in another city, that he was coming...he was coming...he was coming... but he never did. I didn't realize it because I wasn't familiar with divorce and I didn't know any different, but after several years she stopped talking about him.
I had led a very sheltered life till I met her, and she gave me the world. She led a sketchy life on rails, and I gave her Mayberry. LOL. One day, I want to make that into a story. Well, hell, I kinda just did, didn't I?
Do you have such a thing in your life? Something poignant or funny or sad or intense in some way--enough to warrant writing about it?