: it’s best friends day :

kids_ silo

This calls for an apology.

You know Lillian Hellman? Playwright, paramour of Dashiell Hammett, a friend and, ultimately, a Judas of Dorothy Parker? Old Lil had a reputation as a difficult woman. That was the title of her biography, actually.

She wasn’t difficult, she was scheming and conniving. I’m difficult. Big difference.

All I do is whine and complain and, once in a while, snivel. Hang on, there’s more. I’m compulsive, stubborn, opinionated, and completely deaf to reason — a huge pain in the ass. You probably wonder why anyone bothers with me — given my sour disposition and general curmudgeonliness.

Well, they wouldn’t if they had a choice. But those people I call my friends didn’t volunteer, they were drafted. Waylaid, really. I’m a flipping barnacle; I’ve attached myself to some stunningly patient, heart icon_redeasygoing, generous, very forgiving, and very funny people. Saints, really. Or, in keeping with the barnacle metaphor, they are my crustacean hosts.

A few have been around practically my entire life. The Other Lisa came tripping along in grade school; happy and outgoing, she was game for anything. We’d cheerfully step into traffic, bring it to a complete stop, then re-direct the cars for our own amusement. We’d sneak out in the middle of the night and TP anything that stood still.

On a field trip to the state capital, we got bored and wandered away from the group. We went on a fun tour of our own. The buses, of course, left without us. Eventually, someone did a head count, discovered we were missing, panicked, and came racing back to search. It wasn’t a rescue so much as a capture. Ai-yi-yi, such a fuss.

Jacque sat behind me in homeroom. One night, she borrowed an aunt’s Corvair and we zipped around the baseball diamond in that little car — first base, second, third, and across home plate. Score! Why are we the only ones who think we’re funny? We are, we’re hilarious. These days, she’s all that stands between me and utter self-destruction. I haven’t grown up, she did, though. Into my abiding and unwavering guardian angel. Even now she shows up at my window instead of the door and I’m 15 all over again.

Rachel was in my P.E. class, she was my unwitting cover. A good student, no onesmoking smiley ever suspected her, they didn’t see the rebel within. They saw only a quiet, sweet, popular well-behaved kid, which she certainly was. Until I talked her into smoking, drinking, sneaking into the fair, going for a joyride in my mother’s car — juvenile delinquent stuff. I should be ashamed of myself, but, damn, we had fun. She moved far, far away after college. You can understand that, I think.

Ronnie came later. We worked together. Smart and easygoing, she was my superior in every sense. She fed me, humored me, covered for me, excused me, entertained me, and supported me. Most impressive of all, she stood between me and idiot clients. Right in the cross hairs. A dangerous place in the best of circumstances, which these were not. I was in the middle of a raging, undiagnosed thyroid storm and I made her life miserable. Insufferable is what I was. And, yes, I’m ashamed of that. Deeply.

I moved and haven’t seen her in years, but I know she’s there; I pester her constantly. And, bless her heart, she keeps answering my emails. I have her phone number, too, plus I know where she lives. So she’s welcome to try — I wouldn’t blame her — but she can’t hide.

I’ve fastened myself to you, too, here on my little blog. Every one of you. I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise. You make it all worthwhile. So, see? I’m a lucky girl, I have nothing to complain about. But I like to bitch. Who needs a reason?

Happy Best Friends Day everyone! And, again, my sincere, heartfelt condolences.

Copyright © 2015 publikworks

15 responses to “: it’s best friends day :”

  1. I knew there was something about you…you’re sweet and loyal. Can’t hide it. Terrible when you show your true face. People who sustain relationships for their entire lives generally are lovely and loving. Now you can’t hide behind your exterior anymore.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. They just haven’t run fast enough. Or far enough.

      As for you, don’t even try. In your hats, you’ll stand out in every crowd. Dead giveaway :o)


      1. Ah, but I don’t always wear them. In fact I don’t even always put on make up or comb my hair. Hell, you have to get me undressed down to my pretties to know I am a girl sometimes.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I’ll know. I’m a human tracking device. Hat or no hat, tattoos or no tattoos, girl or whatever, I’ll know. Friends are easy to spot.


          1. They are indeed. Course, my tattoos are so huge they are hard to miss. I had a doctor ask how he was supposed to tell if I was hurt since my tats covered the bruises.

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Wow, really? What do you have tattoos of? I want one of Kipper the dog.


              1. It really depends on how you count them, I have 15 or 17 or 19. We are pulling a couple of them together, so I am not at all sure they count anymore as separate.

                I don’t usually do this, but you can read about and even see some of my art work here: http://valentinelogar.com/2014/05/09/unicorn-kisses/


                1. Wowie! Those are so totally cool!! My favorite is the boots, hands down. The masks are great, and Athena — oh, all of them. You must have the patience of a saint. That’s just awesome. Seriously awesome.


                2. Thank you. I love all of them also. My favorite? I don’t think I have one, mostly because each have a story and each story is meaningful. I think, if I truly had to pick I love the Sugar Skull because she is me in such a very real way. But yes, I love my Boots also.


  2. Oh, that’s you, Publikworks! Wondered who that barnacle was stuck to my carapace. I hope you’ll keep at the writing for me and all your other blog-reading buddies to enjoy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s me, pal. You can’t pry me off with a crowbar. It’s been tried, but people tend to get worn out and learn to accept their fate :o) Thanks for the ride.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re very welcome. Hope you don’t mind going sideways.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Not at all. Backward and upside down are really disorienting, though.

          Liked by 1 person

    1. :o) Thanks, Little Voice.


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