Sunday, March 21, 2010

Why you should probably not be my friend.

I feel like I should talk about beer and make fart jokes to make up for the last few posts. I swear, I will not get all preachy on you. I will not make this blog THAT blog. Those things are important to me, yes, but they are personal and I am going to try to have some self control (ha!) and not talk about that anymore.

I want to talk about Krackle. And her family. And Krackle. Here's the thing, she is my oldest friend. It has been ten and a half years. I know that doesn't seem long to most people, but I don't talk to people from my childhood/high school years. So, other than immediate family, nobody knows me better. Big Jed is a close second.

I called her randomly at 3:00 today and pretty much invited myself over. And she made me dinner. Then she bought me a beer. Don't you all want to be my friend? I promise I am not normally all "take care of me" but, today I needed it. I needed to just be with someone who knows me that well, to just be somewhere that I am comfortable. We spent the early part of the evening playing with Krackle Junior, who is easily the most beautiful amazing little girl on the entire planet. OK, I am a tad biased. But, seriously, I love how comfortable she is with me. I love that she recognizes me and let's me pick her up and hold her and I just love that fucking kid. I can't help it. I would post pictures, but she is a little girl and this blog is public, and right. But, seriously, SO FUCKING CUTE.

Krackle went inside to put the meat in the oven and Krackle Junior ran over to me and handed me her ball. And I (being totally kid communication challenged) threw it. Because that is what I would do with my dogs. And she grinned and babbled and ran to get it and gave it to me again. Then a nanosecond later she pointed at the bubbles, so I blew bubbles. Then she wanted to play under the pine tree (too close to the street!) and I picked her up and lifted her over my head and she squealed and then wanted me to throw the ball again. And this icy, cold, stone-like thing in my chest? Yeah, it melted a little. OK, a lot. I almost threw her in my car and drove off.

This post is like my friendship resume.

They are all just so cute, I want to embroider a pillow with "Home Sweet Home" and give it to them because, seriously, they are that cute. Except I can't embroider and they would laugh at me and awkwardly put it on the couch, only to throw it in a closet later.

Then Krackle and I went to a bar and drank beer and talked about sex. And it was just the perfect day. Exactly what I needed. To just sit and laugh and talk and just be.

However, I am fairly certain that a bunch of drunk guys at the bar heard most of our conversation and are going to tell a lot of people about it. If I overheard it, I know I would.


Krackle said...

Please, please, please embroider me a pillow that says home sweet home. Pa LEEESE! That would almost be as awesome as that blanket you gave me.

I had fun last night hanging, but I will say I got slightly intoxicated. I blame the flying dog, cat, donkey, ass - but it was still fun. And yes, if those men heard was an enjoyable evening for them. I have no idea how loud we were.

Erratic said...

OK, technically I know how to embroider, I just don't know how to make the pillow. I will enlist the help of Big Jed. This is happening.

Erratic said...

Crap, I know how to needle point. You are getting needle point. It's all I've got, dude.