Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Are You Living In An Old Man's Rubble?

I apologize but the title of this post has nothing to do with the context. Unless, of course, you happen to be Veronica.

In middle school and high school I had a very dear friend. Her youth group often did events and conferences and mission trips with my own youth group and we usually had at least one class together in any given year. Together we make up two of the five member club known as the L.O.O.P.s (Last Ones On the Planet--who haven't had sex. I believe I've mentioned it here before but, as Seniors, we realized that one by one by one our peers had been steadily losing their virginity at an alarming rate. We were disheartened and decided that we were, more than likely, the last ones on the planet who valued purity and had ours happily in tact). We share a love for Jesus Christ, Carmen San Diego (thanks to 9th grade World Geography), macaroni and cheese, Mexico mission trips, toilet paper, and so much more that sits just on the horizon of my memories. The last nine years (sweet chicken have I really been out of high school that long?!?!) have taken us down very different paths but our colleges were close (shout out to Point Loma Nazarene and UC San Diego) so we kept in touch and saw each other on occasion. I think I can count on one hand the number of times we've seen each other since--but it doesn't lessen my appreciation of her friendship.

Veronica came to see me this past weekend. She met my son, LOOP offspring number one, for the first time. We watched the Oscars and made fun of quite a few elements such as, "Thank you life! Thank you love!" But we decided that Marion Cotillard could maybe get away with such a speech because she is French and adorable and when rendered completely speechless it might be alright to thank life and love. We ate macaroni and cheese. We went shopping at Gardner Village and found such gems as these:

We did not purchase them because, well, we do not generally spend massive amounts of money on horrid masquerade ball accouterments. We also did not want our homes to smell like the stinky store for all eternity. Yes, indeed, there is one store in Gardner Village that I positively could not work in because it smells like potpourri upchucked an entire florist shop in there.

We also found this one there and upon initial investigation I actually thought it was a pretty neat looking tragedy mask--someone must have purchased comedy because he was no where to be found. However, upon seeing the picture, I have decided that it looks a great deal like the mask that Bette Midler wore when she was in that creepy play in the movie Beaches. Not the play where she says, "The doctor will see you now." And not the play where she sings the song about Otto Titsling. The other play. The one where she sings, "She is my wife. Her mechanical heart, constantly serving 'til death do us part." Yah. This looks like the mask of someone with a mechanical heart.

Now, I'd like to bring your attention to the fact that we found giant sets of keys in three different shops on our excursion. I'd like to take suggestions for what, on God's green earth, you could do with these other than use them as a very uncommon murder weapon. I don't know. I, for one, think it was Veronica in the store, with the keys. It just couldn't have been Professor Plum in the study with the revolver. That's way too predictable. By the way, she's laughing and looking like she's been caught red handed because the store employee walked by and, well, if you look closely, Veronica has attached her own normal sized key ring to the giant one and, for the briefest of moments (caught on camera) we were both a little afraid that we'd be reprimanded. Let's face it, at 26 we're just a little past the "avile henchmen" antics of the ninth grade. Or. Wait. Clearly we're not. And I don't even think we want to be.

In any case, I had a wonderful two days with my dear friend. It had been much too long since we'd seen each other and I am incredibly thankful that she forked out the dough to come and visit me. She lives in San Francisco now and, well, she brought me Ghirardelli chocolate so I'm pretty much forever indebted to her.

Thank you, Veronica, for coming to see me. You are more dear to my heart than you can know. Thank you for being a constant friend and example of strength and Christianity. I know you don't see yourself the way I do which makes it all the more admirable. Maybe, one day, I'll be a real adult like you. Also, if any of the words I just wrote are spelled incorrectly and/or used completely out of context please inform me post-haste.


  1. oh, dear friend, the pleasure was all mine and if i could visit every weekend, i would. you'd probably become tired of seeing me, but i like you that much. as i was reading your post, i did have to look up the spelling of "accouterments" (i always spell it "accoutrements") and i immediately thought about our conversation during which we discussed spelling and pronunciation mishaps. well, as it turns out, the dictionary lists both options. chalk it up to one more reason we are friends.

  2. Clearly the giant keys were made to go on my wall right next to my giant fork and spoon. Obviously. Did you buy them for me?