Wednesday, November 22, 2006

It's a Thanksgiving miracle, Charlie Brown!

Since I've basically turned this blog into my personal therapist's couch, let's just continue on that path to it's natural conclusion. After I posted on Nov. 20th, an email dialoge occured b/t me and TMK. I eventually invited her to read the blog, even though it was written for me and I had no intention of sharing it, well except with ALL the loyal readers of 3 o'clock candy (which I hear is a growing population! - we are so clever!) Anyway, she responded with a post on her personal blog. Here is an excerpt:

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There are times when I scoff at the MySpace phenomenon. There are also days, like today, that I receive something from a friend that moves me and makes me feel loved. There are a few people that this site has brought back into my life that I can say with absolute certainty would not have happened previously. I am thankful for that.

Yesterday I received a friend request from one of my first friends as a pre-pubescent, silly young girl. It was followed by an email briefing me on her life and asking about mine. Several emails passed back and forth and she welcomed me to read a blog that she had posted on another site. Let me just say that I was so touched by her words. I was taken back to that time. I read these words with tears streaming down my face because I never knew. This is what she said...


[see Nov. 20th below]


I don't know how to properly convey to her just how much her words meant to me. I only know fragments of the insecure girl that she speaks of. I remember all of those times and many, many more. I remember not hating her humming, but wishing that I could sing like her. I do remember hating my nappy hair because I wanted her straight strawberry locks. I remember the numerous nights spent pranking boys from my bedroom. I remember begging my mom for two twin beds in my room so that my friend would have a permanent space in my house. My mom loved her too and it was done. I remember strategizing in her mom's apartment on how to cut and tatter our jeans just right so that they looked like we bought them at Contempo Casuals. I remember her teaching me about make-up and how to properly apply lip liner and gloss. I remember being amazed that she couldn't ride a bike. I also remember telling her it was simple and then watching her arms and legs flail as she crashed into the side of a house on
Jungerman Rd. I remember driving my old baby blue Camry and singing Garth Brooks, "Aint Going Down Till the Sun Comes Up." She would make me sing all of the words really fast and when he sang, "you better get your red head back in bed before the morning," she would tousle her hair and we would jump around and dance. I remember being jealous of her fashion sense and her mom's yellow Storm. I remember walking to Rebecca Stratman's 14th birthday party with her and us both being scared to go inside. I remember her being so mature. I didn't realize at that time that she had to be. She was more of a grown-up at 15 than I am at 28.

College was the demise of our friendship. I would think of her often, but selfishly never did anything about it. I was an asshole. Or, just a more damaged version of that insecure girl. Beer and a jack-ass boyfriend were on the top of my priority list. I have since lost the boyfriend (however beer is still in my top 5). Anyway, the bottom line is that I was a jerk. I knew she didn't fully approve of my extracurricular activities so I dismissed her from my life. I regret that fully.

I now rejoice at our second chance. Now, not as young girls, but women. It is amazing how life works out.



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My reaction to her words are hard to describe. First, I never thought of her as an asshole, we simply grew apart which often occurs during the teen years. As teenagers we strike out on our own and reject anything reminding us of when we were silly little girls. It's only as adults that we embrace that fragment of a little girl still inside us.


When I count the number of casual acquaintences & friends who strolled in & out of my life, I am struck by my own apathy. That party that TMK attended in 2002 was full of people whom I never speak with anymore, do I care? Not really, if I'm honest, they were no more than drinking buddies attending b/c we always served kegs of really good beer! Then there are the friends of whom I've stood up for in weddings. I have been two weddings where I no longer speak to the bride or groom. When their kids look at there wedding albums, they'll say "oh, that was so and so, but we've lost touch." Anyway, TMK, losing your friendship was felt more deeply than any other person whose number I lost or whose email to which I was too busy to reply. Maybe it's that 'ol Thanksgiving magic that we have this second chance to connect, this time as adults. I vow not to be judgemental this time. I have learned that you must accept the people you love unconditionally.


Since college I've developed friendships at an arm's length, never letting people too close. That is until moving to DC, where I had the fortune of meeting the wonderful contributors of 3 o'clock candy. It's so unique to find people who just get you and who are not afraid to show they care in the most genuine of ways. I'll never forget the time The Future Mrs. Darby created for me, with her crafty ways, a Johnny Depp digital card. He was singing my theme song. Then of course there was finding a pink acoustic guitar on my desk chair in the office just b/c I'd always wanted to learn. Now, it would seem I only like these guys cause they like to give me stuff, which doesn't hurt their cause, but alas it's more than that. And if I haven't told them this week how important they are, then let me do that now. You're great, each of you are so different and yet the group dynamic is amazing. Lunch at CalTort are treasured memories.


If you'll indulge me I'd like to sing a song from Babs, ugh umm, meee meee meee


People--people who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world,
We're children, needing other children

And yet letting our grown-up pride
Hide all the need inside,
Acting more like children
Than children.


And Scene!
- Scarlett

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