Friday, January 19, 2007

My Friends.

That's the thing about death; for the rest of us, Obladi Oblada, life goes on.

Though the words themselves are sadly inadequate, I have to tell you all THANK YOU very, very much for your kind words, warm emails, and condolence cards.

Like Sara McLachlan says, your love is better than ice cream.
And if you had any inkling how much I really, really love ice cream...well, you get the picture.
I love you too.

and now the portion of the program where I become completely, utterly selfish and bitchy:

Dear Friend,

You know how you always go on about how caring you say that sometimes you care too much. You say how you're always so giving, sometimes too much.
Then why is it, friend, that whenever I really need for you to come through for me, I have to prompt you? You know how I dislike asking for help or being needy--so it's doubly distasteful for me.

I'll bet a hundred bucks that if I had a penis, you'd never ever make me ask, even obliquely, for help.
And I really hate to be the one to break it to you (okay, I'm lying. I DON'T hate it--in my current mood I'm actually a tad gleeful about it)...but that guy you always make such a big to-do about? Much like you, he likes to drive a stick.
If you know what I mean.

Have a great day.

Dear Other Friend,

The above letter was not directed at you, in case you were wondering.
And I know that you were.

Have a great day.

Man, I'm such a bitch.
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