Lake Girl

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If You're My Friend

Let's be honest, if you're my friend, how lucky are you?  Maybe winning the lottery lucky or not stepping in dog shit lucky.  I'll let you ponder that one.   But if you're my friend, chances are, I have called you in the middle of the night and said, "If anyone asks, I was with you."  If you have ever heard the following: Girrrrrl, we need to talk. You're not gonna believe this shit . I can't make this shit up. This pansy ass mother fu*ker. What the fu*k was I thinking? Yup, you're my friend.   If you know that I like to call my dad Henry and that I love to have Saturday chisme sessions with him, you are definitely my friend.  You are a super friend if you've heard me tell one of his stories or if I have shared a famous one-liner of his.  You are a super elite friend, if he's offered you an "ice cold beer."  If you needed help moving or you randomly asked if someone wanted to come help you paint and I volunteered, you are indeed m
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On Saturdays I Weep

Saturdays have become so difficult for me.  Maybe it's the slow start, the silence, the stillness of the house that allows my thoughts to consume me.  Every Saturday since I've been back in my normal routine, I have experienced such great sadness.   I'm not boarding a plane, or picking up a rental, driving down 37 South and pulling into your driveway like I used to when I was in college, kicking up sand because I drove in too fast.  "One of these days you're going to hit one of those poles." I would laugh and say, "No I'm not mom."   I never did hit one of the poles, not physically anyway.  But metaphorically, I hit one every Saturday morning.  It takes me most of the day to come out of it.  Today, I actually thought cleaning the bathrooms would be a good idea.  Who the hell thinks that?  But then my mind fills with memories of our house on Glen Garden and how we used to clean on Saturday mornings and then to recent times when cleaning the bathro
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Prom and Other Things

Today is the Little One's prom.  Not sure how we got here so fast, but here we are.  Why didn't anyone warn me about Pre Prom meltdowns?  They are a real thing.  Well, maybe I heard rumors about nail fiascos and hair disasters but those things only happened to other people.  Like exaggerators and cry babies.   Nope, they happen to real people, people like me that claim to have their shit together and people like my kid who is one of the strongest, most dynamic forces I know.   And let me tell you, they are not pretty.  And they come on fast and out of freakin nowhere.  I'm pretty sure I had a mini one in the car as I was running Pre Prom errands and listening to Bizarre Love Triangle on repeat.   I was looking for last minute things and I wanted to call my mom and talk shit with her.  And then I remembered she was gone.  I couldn't call her.  But I remembered aunt Mary said I could talk to my mom whenever I wanted and she would hear me.  So I started to tell her that Ca
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