I am interrupting the ongoing series of stories about my father to talk about someone else who has meant a lot to me.
Today is the birthday of one of my oldest friends in the world. Please note that when I say oldest friend I mean I’ve known her a long time, not that she’s elderly. She and I met as teenagers, became friends, dated after college, broke up, got back together, lived together, got engaged, split up and finally became friends again. For those of you who have read this blog over the years (or those inclined to check the archives) she is the girl who appears here, here, here, here and here as well in many other places. She was a big deal in my life and I’m glad that we’re still friends.
I guess we could have skipped all of the stuff between meeting as kids and being friends today but then we might not be who we are or where we are today. If not for her I would have never moved to Los Angeles and never met my wife. From time to time she stops by here so just in case she’s reading this (and even if she isn’t) I’d like to say happy birthday and thank you for all of the good things you’ve done for me.
P.S.- I do have two stories that involve her and my father but in both of them my dad was peeing in public so I don’t want to spoil the party with the filth.