Friends Forever

I remember, or at least I think I do, my best friend Carrie’s first birthday party. I’m three years older than she is so she may not remember this. She was sitting in her high chair staring at a cake. She was adorable and had big chubby cheeks you just wanted to pinch. (She still does, although they’re not chubby anymore!). Actually, a lot of my childhood memories involve her.  She is my soul mate. I don’t know how else to describe our friendship. It’s Just a way that two people are destined to be together forever kind of way.  I don’t know a lot about reincarnation but if it’s real I’m certain she and I have been friends forever and will be in the next life too. How lucky am I? 

My next memory of us is when her mom and my aunt lived together in this big ol’ Victorian house. I mean this house was HUGE. Carrie always had the coolest toys to play with. She had this awesome Big Wheel® and this motorized car like thing. This old house had all of these cool sidewalks and paths around it so she and I would ride these things all over the place eventually ending up in an old dilapidated chicken coop that was in the backyard. We’d put dirt in an old can and add water then proceed to “paint” the coop while singing “Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog” at the top of our lungs. I’m sure the neighbors thought we were adorable.  

Carrie and I always managed to have fun no matter what but we weren’t perfect angels by any stretch of the imagination.  One time, when I was spending the night with her in the big ol’ Victorian and Carrie had been a beast all day. What four year old can’t be, right? Anyway it was bath time. And best friends bathe together right? So her mom got the bath ready and we got in and started playing in the tub. 

She was doing something that annoyed me I’m sure so I got the bright idea to fill a Dixie cup with hot water and make her drink it. You know how when you’re a kid you can't think past the next minute? Well, I filled up the cup and the water was hot enough to melt the wax off and burn the crap out of my fingers. I handed it to her. She drank it. She only waited about two beats before she screamed bloody murder. 

I swear I didn’t think it would hurt her that bad. I think. Needless to say, she got to stay up and watch TV while I had to go straight to bed. I was more upset about not getting to watch TV. It wouldn’t be the last time I tortured that poor kid. I think that says a lot about what a vindictive asshole I can be.

That's all for now. More's to come! Later bitches.

Just Little Ol' Me

Deuces!

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything and for that I do apologize. But then again, that just means we have so much fun stuff to catch up on!

I am the recent recipient of a new iPhone and I’ve got to tell you it is true love. I’m a glorified iPhoney. Actually I’m more in love with the apps, namely Twitter. For those of you that are Tweeps you can follow me at @melsiev3. For those of you who don’t know what that means you already know how to follow me. J

So I’ve decided to write a memoir.  As I get closer to the big 5-OH I find myself thinking a lot about my life and you, dear, dear reader get to be the recipient of those ruminations! Yay!  Mostly though, this is about the love only true friendship brings. I'll be adding to this often. I hope you'll stick with me.  Enjoy!

My first memories are just snapshots really.

Click - I’m sitting on the hood of my dad’s car in my blue velvet sailor suit with my black plastic old timey phone while he takes my picture with his old timey camera. It was a little bothersome really.  I just wanted to call somebody and try not to slide off that big ass car to my death.
 

Click – Driving to Arizona with my grandparents. I was three. My great aunt Billie and uncle Jack lived up in the mountains in a cabin. They were the caretakers of a big estate or some such shit. I remember my Uncle Jack carrying me everywhere because he was afraid I’d “git bit” by a rattlesnake or carried off by mountain lions or something. My Grandmother being apalled that I kept putting his stinky old work hat and boots on. Apparently they were gross. I thought they smelled like Heaven.

Click - Same Arizona trip, taking a walk with my Grandfather where we found a little mountain stream. In the stream there were all of these tadpoles. Seriously there were millions of them all swishing around. He reached down and scooped some up in his hands.  I was fascinated by how they just swam around in his big hands.  For the whole time I knew my Grandfather I was fascinated by his hands. They were beautiful. I would sit on his lap and just stare at his hands.  My mother’s hands look a lot like his hands although she’ll probably hate that I said that. I’ve always loved her hands too.

Click – Same trip to Arizona. Maybe even the same walk. My Grandpa and I came upon this big empty swimming pool out in the middle of the desert.  Weird, right? We walked down the pool steps and all of a sudden there were all of these little lizards running everywhere.  I remember my Grandpa climbing out of the pool and standing on the edge laughing his ass off while I chased those fuckers everywhere. I have no idea what I would have done if I’d caught one. Probably shit myself.

Click – I’m riding the silver gas tank in my grandparent’s backyard like it was a prize racehorse, getting silver paint all over my legs and clothes (much to Grandma’s dismay!”) yelling “Yah!” at the top of my lungs until the next door neighbor came up to the fence and asked me if I was retarded. I said no, I am GERONIMO!

Click – My mom, who like everyone in my family EXCEPT me is an exceptional athlete, wanted to teach me how to catch a ball with my baseball glove. She’d throw it. I’d hold my glove up in front of my face like she taught me and just about the time the ball got to me I’d step aside. Apparently I was afraid of the ball. And like any good parent who wants to teach their child not to be afraid of something they must first prove that it will not kill them. So mom threw the ball at my head as hard as she could, well maybe not that hard. I guess she was thinking I would instinctively put my glove in front of my face. I didn’t. The ball hit me right in the nose. Good throw, Mom. Blood gushed everywhere and it HURT like a mofo. My Grandma, who had witnessed the whole event, was so mad at my Mom.  I’ve never seen my mom so contrite.  But you know what? I always had my glove up in front of my face from that point on.

Click – Being sent into the store when I was five or six to buy cigarettes (you could do that in the sixties) for my mom and my aunt. While inside the store they’d move the car. Mom always swore they never lost sight of me. I just remember standing there like a dumbass wondering if the Indians that my mother always threatened to send me too when I was bad would throw balls at my head too.  This happened so many times that after a while I always knew to look for the car anywhere but where it was when I went into the store. Now you may think that a cruel joke to play on a child but I tell you what, it taught me something.

Fear is conquerable.

I have a lot more clicks but I think that’s enough for now.