friday five
i was going to write about oral sex. but in 24 hours i will be sitting in a greek church, for midnight easter mass. there will be a lot of chanting, that will sound like this: “ahhhblahblahblah BLAH blah” to my ears. there will be a lot of standing up and sitting down, and there will be the blood of the savior*. it seems a little scandalous to write about cunnilingus on the anniversary of JC’s untimely crucifixion. on his birthday, sure, i mean that was a pretty happy day. but to honor the brutal whacking of a stand-up bloke, i think i’ll steer clear of the sex talk for today.
*depending on your side of the transubstantiation fence, that is.
instead, five things about five friends:
erin. erin has an annoying habit of picking at her split ends when she’s nervous or bored, and don’t even mention to her how small her hands are, but the best things about erin are: she’ll drive me to magnolia’s when we’re stoned, she’ll expertly parse clueless-guy-speak with me for hours over the phone, and she is still friends with me even though she knew me in eighth grade.
raychul. raychul is the most graceful lunatic i’ve ever met. she can talk you through an existential crisis as smoothly as helping you pick nail polish. i witnessed her ravenously inhaling two burritos ten minutes before her wedding. she’s probably seen every simpsons episode ever, and her and her hubby like to prank call their friends on weeknights.
seastreet. if sea were an animal, he’d be a porcupine and i mean that in the most affectionate way possible. he has an incredibly infectious laugh and a habit of saying “nevermind” like a five year old when he gets frustrated. he carries a ratty black backpack with him everywhere and is capable of convincing me to do almost anything, including drive 10 miles to get food at three o’clock in the morning.
fulminous. ful is the biggest rock star i know without actually having any musical aspirations at all. he will call you from outside a mexican restaurant to chat about nothing for twenty minutes and he will let you stay on his couch and watch movies if you’re feeling lonely. he looks suprisingly like mark-paul gosselaar with black hair and he leaves the funniest voice mail messages ever, most of which start with: “oh. my. god. so. okay…”
my mom. my mother rarely calls me by my name, usually resorting to pumpkin ["paamkeen"], zuzuca, or lovey-dovey [laahvey-daahvey]. her style and flair could kick martha stewart’s ass into the ground and then turn the remains into a pleasing flower bed. she goes shopping for me and brings back stuff i’d never find, and gives me shoes all the time. she also gives out her best advice at two a.m. in the kitchen, chain-smoking with me and drinking tea. she’s the strongest woman i’ve ever met.
what are five things you love about a friend?