Tag Archives: friendship

“My Bags Are Packed And I’m Ready To Go…”

girl-suitcases-young-woman-retro-style-old-31355831I’m sitting opposite Carolyn as she listens to a travel alert on her computer so she can scare the holy doody out of herself before she heads to Africa to work with Kuza, a fabulous organization that helps young people in Uganda attend college.  Apparently now there is just the slightest chance she could be riddled with bullet holes prior to the trip home.

Here’s what I love about Carolyn:  She is Lucy Ricardo.  I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating:  You say, “Hey, Carolyn, you want to–” and she is signed up, suited up and waiting with the car running before you’ve completed your sentence.  If no one has suggested an adventure in, oh, say the past seventy-two hours, she will surely come up with something.  It will be big.  It will be whacky.  It will require inoculations.

So when she heard about Kuza’s work in Uganda, she said to me, “I’m going to go to Uganda someday.”  She occasionally confuses the words “someday” and “tomorrow.”

She’s already taking medication to ward off malaria and rabid dysentery and has been inoculated for  yellow fever, red fever, pretty much every color of fever known to humankind.  She leaped first.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe that we are best buds; it takes me an hour to decide whether to go to Bi-Mart.

I think about things.  A lot.  One might argue “too much,” but at least I am prepared.  Carolyn had no idea how to spell dysentery until I mentioned that I’d Googled it and that she could get it.  Now, I’m sitting across from her as she reads about it.  She’s turning a mite green, but that’s okay; she’s informed. 

I love being Carolyn’s friend.  She’s gets me into all sorts of situations I would never get into on my own.  She’s the reason I nearly got strangled in a Krav Maga class and almost got arrested in a NY subway.  I was with her when she stopped the car to try to break up a street fight in Woodburn.  I have seen her fly across the country to pick up a baby she didn’t know she was going to parent until only a day before, and I’ve watched her enroll her five kids in a school I told her about only that evening.  Split decisions that turn out beautifully are her gift.  So is steadfast friendship.  Should I have the need, I know she would fly to the ends of the earth to accompany me on whatever adventure I get into my head (after a suitable mental incubation period, of course).

She’ll be in Uganda eighteen days if the typhoid doesn’t get her.  I’m going to miss her.  I will have to go on some kind of adventure while she’s gone.  Oh, what the heck: Bi-Mart, here I come.

Safe journey, Carolyn.

–Wendy

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GIRL FIGHT

I got into a little scuffle with some of my dearest friends this past weekend, and I’d like us to publicly kiss and make up.

Here’s what happened:  Next month Carolyn and I are heading to New York with our friends Su, Darla and Ginger.  It’s going to be part business, part Thelma and Louise road trip sans most of the crime.  Last Saturday four of us met to work out the details and to hit the mall to pick up essentials.  The problem began at breakfast.  I arrived with wild hair and the bare minimum of makeup (I’m working on embracing the real me, remember).

They arrived beautiful.  I mean, just fabulous.  Hair freshly cut and colored, their makeup perfect, not a damn line on any of their post-menopausal-yet-dewy faces.  And it was only 8:30 in the morning.  I feel so happy that they are aging beautifully.  Really, I do.  I mean, I love these women.  But by the time my tea arrived, I was thinking about the ads I’ve been seeing for an Origins wrinkle eraser.  You get 83% of the effect of the injectables I refuse to use because I’m so self-actualized.

So, off we go to the mall and there it is—the wrinkle eraser.  A lovely 46-year-old (we asked) saleswoman with not a line on her kisser offers us samples.  Tiny little samples.  Well, looking at this saleswoman and at my friends, I begin to feel my self-actualization slipping southward.  I mean, it’d be just as easy to embrace myself with 83% of my fine lines and wrinkles softened a little, right?  So…

I took my tiny sample and my friends’ samples, too.  They don’t need them. 

 They got so upset.  They asked me if I’d let my daughter take her friends’ gifts.  Well, yes, I would in a case like this.  It would show discernment.  And, she’d be saving them from putting unnecessary chemicals in their pores.  But they grabbed their little packets back (rather forcefully, I’d say), and a brief physical skirmish in front of the Origins counter ensued.  Our saleslady and two of her coworkers suggested we stop it.

We haven’t really discussed the incident since, but I’ve been mulling it over, and I think we should make up right here, right now.

So apologize, girls.  And then gimme back my wrinkle erasers!!!!

Wendy

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Filed under BOTOX, friendship, Humor, Menopause, wrinkle erasers, wrinkles