Friday, February 03, 2006

This is turning into a long and multi-part correspondence with Jonathan, or JAM as he has thoughtfully acronymed himself, but I think he asks good questions. And let's face it, youth wants to know! [Hi, Mom.]

First, I hope you're feeling better. Saw that you stayed home the other day. Second, I must ask -- Ben -- when you say "roommate" do you mean "roommate" or is that a euphemism? Also, is he wearing camoflage so the dogs can't see him? (Does that mean they would just see a plate of food?) Also, on that blog post -- I think we went to Hillcrest (wasn't that the old school they used for LU? -- Incidentally, did you know that Mrs. Rathyen retired a couple of years back? They had a whole party/event for her, and I sent in some memories via paper, because, well, I wasn't prepared to drop what I was doing and dash to NJ, but it made me feel old...) And I
wasn't brought into LU until 3rd grade, so I reckon that's when we met. But wow, I'd forgotten we'd known each other that long. (I was going to be smart and ask which did "sort of" pertain to -- the "long lost" part or the "friend" part... but then I figured you weren't feeling well, and didn't need me getting all lippy...)
Yes, I am feeling better today, thank you - I just have some seriously jacked-up sinuses, and so every germ that floats by settles in and torments me. In a truly amazing example of narcissism, my new boss actually asked me today if she made me sick, because she had noticed a pattern of me taking a sick day after every meeting with her. How does the aspiring sycophant answer that? Yes, you make me sick, because you are my sun and moon? Or, no, you don't make me sick because a force of goodness such as you couldn't possibly affect me in a negative way? I demurred, and said only that I was sure there was no connection.

Ben is just my roommate - not a euphemism, just a co-habitant. He wears the camouflage not to avoid detection by my dogs, but because he is a Drill Instructor for the United States Marine Corps. This makes him the best roommate ever, not because he has the dogs marching in lockstep, but because he is never home. When he has a platoon of future Marines under thumb(-rack), he sleeps many nights on the base with them close by, and only comes home to do laundry. He is a very nice boy, but at 27, he is much too young for me - or, too old, depending on what you've heard.

You're quite right, it was Hillcrest - Maple Road was the middle school. Mrs. Rathyen lived in my neighborhood, and when she retired, she sent a picture of me to my parents. My dad sent me a copy - I'm wearing some kind of Garanimals turtleneck and lab glasses, staring intently at something that was no doubt about to catch fire. I have a serious problem with candles, and now that I reflect, I bet that's where it all started.

And, wise-ass, the "sort of" referred to the long-lost part - I did attend your wedding, relatively recently, so it's not like I'm Michele Zavada or anything! I did see Alison Hoffman in 1994 - I was working part-time in the Macy's Housewares department, and she was there with someone she identified as her "husband." Now, that may have been a euphemism. And as we know, she might as well have called him her "first husband".

I do not recall catching the bouquet at your nuptials - I seem to be a bouquet magnet, and oddly enough, one of the few remaining unmarried women of my acquaintance. I remember catching the bouquet on several occasions: Kathy & Chris' wedding, Michelle & Randy's wedding, and I'm sure it's happened more than that. So there must be some sort of inoculating effect. Would you send me a copy of that picture? If it's digitized, of course - (like you don't have everything including this so-called cat of yours digitized.)

So what's this recurring theme about "Sugar is your nemesis"? -- do you mean in a medical way? Or more in a "no, I shouldn't have that second brownie" kinda way?And Balsamic Vinagrette gives you migraines? I get migraines too! (Sadly, with some frequency, though unlike you I haven't pinned down the specific trigger -- beond too much sunlight, that is, which is a lot better now that I wear polarized sunglasses -- they make a huge difference). Hmm, with all this in common, it makes me wonder how life might have turned out if you had gone to the junior prom with me...

Sugar is my nemesis - not in a way that is recognized by the medical establishment, but then again, I would refer you to your earlier mention of ADHD. Not all genuine problems are "dreamt of in [their] philosophy." I don't know what the problem is, exactly - I just know that I feel a lot better when I eliminate it - but that is almost impossible to achieve. If I had that much willpower, I would use it on some truly intractible problem, like religious fanaticism, or getting Tori to stop fishing in the toilet.

And as for the junior prom - it is clear to me now that a large part of my success as a novelist and memoirist will be based on the fact that I have never attended a prom. If you would deprive me of that just so we could hang around in the present day kvetching about our headaches together, then you are just not the person I thought you were! [:)]

Alright, JAM, you must spill all the details about our mutual friend J.S. I love nothing more than a good real-life soap opera.

1 comment:

JAM said...

A multi-part correspondence indeed. And boy was I confused there for a few minutes.

Now, even I though I know my insistance on details is an obsession I have little control over, even I think I'm beginning to sound like an a**hole... BUT...

Maple Road was my elementary school the same way I'm thinking Apshawa (?) was yours... Macopin was the name of the middle school (though I prefer to not remember much else about those two years...) I agree completely with your "culled from the herd" analogy, though...

Finally, I realized you left out one of my favorite memories of you... the time we served on the same debate team, and -- in a death penalty debate as I recall -- you completely shut down Travis Corcoran...

*chuckle* Heh. Good times, good times...