Posts Tagged ‘friends’

Yesterday after work I ran straight to my hair stylist and got a haircut.  She chopped an inch off of my wild mane and it felt great.  She could have gone another 1/2 inch, but I’m satisfied for now.

When I got home I was like a ball of fire.  I had a smile on my face and lots of chatter to spew at Husby.  He referred to me as the Anti-Samson.  Instead of my weakening with the loss of my hair I gained strength and vigor.

Husby was glad to see me chatty and smiling after being at the day job.  I haven’t been chatty and smiling for a couple of weeks now, so I must be getting back to myself again.  Chop off my hair and I’m good to go.

Today I’m having lunch with Mary Ann.  We’ve known each other since high school and when we both got big girl jobs in the big city of St. Paul we started having lunch once a month.  For the last twenty or so years we’ve had our monthly lunch at the same restaurant.  They know us.

Mary Ann has been retired for two weeks now, and I’m getting ready to launch that rocket on December 1st.  Today we’re having our last “downtown” lunch.

Right now I have only six more days at the day job.  It’s surreal.  It’s glorious.  It’s just a little bit scary.  But mostly it’s an admirable milestone and the beginning of a whole new episode.

I’m glad I got my hair cut yesterday.  It’s given me the energy to boldly move into retirement life.  After all, I am the Anti-Samson.


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OK, I’m pretty sure you guys know what’s coming up in this post.  This time of year I’m very predictable.


I know it’s not everyone’s bag, but I can’t understand why not.  For crying out loud, people come from other states just to visit our state fair.  Why?  Because it’s the best state fair in our state.

Today is the first day of the Minnesota State Fair and for the first time in a long time I’m going to attend on the first day, with my friend MaryAnn.  The first thing on my list of things to do is eating a deep fried Twinkie, if indeed they still have deep fried Twinkies, what with the whole Twinkie-going-south thing.  MaryAnn is looking forward to some deep fried pickles.  Deep fried.  It doesn’t matter what kind of food it is, as long as it’s deep fried, and maybe even on a stick.

Deep Fried Twinkies (on a stick) are to die for. I’m not even kidding about this.

So, after MaryAnn and I are done working our tedious day jobs we’re going to meet up at the fair and see the sights, eat the food, and talk some girl talk.

If you live in Minnesota, or even Iowa, Wisconsin, North Dakota, South Dakota, heck, Alaska even, come and see the Minnesota State Fair.  It starts today and continues through Labor Day.  Oh what a time it is!

The Mighty Midway

For the next twelve days you might hear from me about things other than the fair, but know that my heart is at the fair.  Always.

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Drink Refills

My friend MaryAnn and I go out lunch every month. Every month we go to the same place, the name of which place I’m not going to mention because 1) I’m a little ashamed to claim I eat there and 2) I don’t want to slander the place with what I have to say, particularly that I’m ashamed to eat there.   So, the restaurant shall remain nameless. The reason we eat there every month is because 1) we’ve become regulars and it’s the only public place we can go and be “recognized” like famous people, and 2) they don’t kick us out for staying too long or being too rowdy.

The staff at this particular restaurant has remained the same for as long (and probably longer) as MaryAnn and I have been going there for lunch. That means we’ve become fast friends with the waitress. OK, maybe not “fast” friends, but we all know each other on a first name basis and the waitress likes to walk slowly by our table from time to time to catch up on what’s going on in our lives. She also makes sure our drinks are refilled often, probably to give her an excuse to hear what we’re saying.

This past Christmas, without consulting me, MaryAnn decided to get a gift for our waitress. Yes, that’s right, she gave the waitress a beautiful, sparkly snowflake pin that, for all I know, was made of solid gold and dozens of diamonds. All I did was feel sheepish and compliment MaryAnn on how nice she is.

When it came time to refill our drinks, this is what our waitress brought:

Should I take this personally?

They’re called reFILLS. My Coke is on the left, MaryAnn’s ice tea is on the right. Not only is her glass bigger, but it’s filled to the top. Mine? The drink for a person who didn’t give the waitress the gift of jewels? A measly half glass of pop.

Next Christmas I’m giving the waitress a car.

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The year was 1970.  I was in 4th grade.  What little nine-year-old girl doesn’t need a BFF?  I was shy, so I couldn’t presume to think the likes of Barbie V. and Mary Claire N., the populars, would call me one of their own.  I was scared of Julie K. and Joni B. ~ they were kind of tough and floozie-like.  I zeroed in on Patty V. and Terry W.  One day I walked up to them on the playground and asked if I could spend some time with them.

Patty V.:  Do you like the carpenters?

Me with a very confused face: Well, yeah?

Patty V.:  OK, you can be our friend.

I grew up in a house that listened to WCCO (The Good Neighbor To The North and all talk) and 1010 Polka Radio.  I knew nothing of popular music.   It was weeks before I figured out the carpenters had nothing to do with men who build things.  When I deduced The Carpenters were a “singing group” I decided to ask for one of their records for Christmas.  Then I was a real fan.  I had to be if I wanted to hang around with Patty and Terry.

For a couple of years I was the biggest Carpenters fan there was, because I thought it made me cool.  Give me a break, it was the ’70s and I was a total nerd.

Fast forward to the year 2012.  Husby and I got a new car, now known as the Space Pod.  With our new car came three free trial months of Serius radio.  I was tooling along listening to the ’70s channel when to my great surprise I heard The Carpenters.  The problem is, through the many decades since I was in 4th grade I decided I didn’t like The Carpenters anymore.  What’s worse, I don’t think I ever did!

Oh sure, I floated back to the playground of St. Mary’s of the Lake school and remembered making new friends by confirming my acceptance of carpenters, but not The Carpenters.  It made me laugh a little.  Except this dang song has been in my head for three days now.  I decided to share it with you, because if you listen, you can be my friend.

Actually I thought if I put this story and song out to cyberspace it would also get out of my head.  Check back with me in a couple of days to see if it worked.  Please don’t hate me for doing this and possibly dooming you to days of sha-la-la-la-la in your brain.

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