Wednesday, May 28, 2008

A Lil' Bit O' the Captain

I think I've mentioned before and in numerous ways how blessed I am in the friends department. Thanks to this glorious box I have that lights up when I touch it, I have friends all over the world. Lots of my friends are friends because they are so LIKE me. We giggle madly over silly things we have in common and lament the not so funny things we have in common. But there are others, some really special people who are my friends because we stand and gawk at how different we are from each other, and how it is kind of amazing how well we get along.

One of my very best friends from my box I have known now for about seven years, since her beautiful daughter was just a tiny baby and my eldest was (sob) just toddling. Back in about 2002 we spent a LOT of time chatting on line. I knew amongst her many incredible talents (she is an amazing photographer, a former teacher, a SUPER-mom) she is a writer. It is more than her grasp for mixing words around and making it into a delightful thing to read, it is her ability to dig to try to understand people. There were days while we were chatting that I felt like the star on a Barbra Walters special...because my life experiences actually seemed interesting when I was talking to my girl. The other thing these conversations revealed was that she and I had QUITE a different life experience. In fact, I began to suspect that my newish online friend was actually Mary Poppins undercover. I mean that in a really loving way, but I have to tell you this girl is "practically perfect in every way." She's gorgeous, she has this lovely husband and a perfect beautiful little girl and she seems like she never has done anything stupid. At all. Unlike...erm...anyone else I know.

Which leads me to the reason for this post, one I hope you'll indulge me and her a bit and give us some stories. I like to play online scrabble with this beautiful perfect one. She's a good opponent because she is really smart, and she's also the world's greatest sport, which you know makes playing fun. Anyway, today while playing Scrabble she says to me, "Have you ever been hungover?" She may have heard the snort that came from me, even in the next country to the north, where she lives (that isn't too specific, is it?) She proceeds to tell me that her character in the book she's been working on long and hard is about to wake up with a doozy of hangover wherein some general hilarity can ensue. But there's a little problem...the author hasn't done her research! That's right my Mary Poppins has lived more than 30 some odd years and never ONCE been hung over. She gave me some nonsense about a mortal fear of vomiting, but I know it is because she would never do something that imperfect. I told her I'd share with her some thoughts, but I thought what a good meme idea! Tell Mary Poppins about your worst hangover, send it to me, or link us up in the comments.

I'm buying her a red umbrella as a congratulatory gift when this book hits the shelves.


Barb said...

Um, there was the time I couldn't get the lid off of the Advil so I took a hammer and smashed the freaking bottle to bits. You mean like that?

There was the time I had to LIE DOWN in a booth at Las Manitas in Austin. But the hot sauce on the chips cured me...

LaDonna said...

Oh, heaven knows I had plenty of them...we music majors knew how to party. Oh, and don't get me started on cast parties! Right Ei?

Funny thing about it is that I remember more about what CAUSED than hangover than I do about the hang over itself. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Maybe I'm blocking out the agony.

farm suite said...

You can play Scrabble ONLINE? Where the freak have I been?

I've only been hung over once. Underage in Mexico with no chaperones. Now that I'm a mom I am totally blocking out that memory. If more comes back to me I will let you know.

MadMad said...

I am still in shock - what does she mean, NEVER?! I only wish I could say the same. Unfortunately: once? I dropped my kid off at a playdate's house... and then vomited into a plastic bag on the drive home. Twice.

Becca said...

ok , how about HAVING to drive with a splitting headache, blurry eyes and mortal fear of vomiting on myself, because I was in another country and needed to get me and my best friend home for work the next day and the BF didn't drive? Even the clicking from the indicator was loud and when someone honked at a car beside me I cried.

I kept stopping to dry heave by the side of the interstate, and ended up with no voice for 2 days and broken blood vessels all over my face and in my eyes from the straining.

I am amazed the Canadian customs people did not arrest me, I must have been in bad shape by the time I reached the border.

Yes, I did.

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