Thursday, March 28, 2013

Mem-Elaine

it started in the hat of America
Alaska.

Kay Bay Coffee would call our name and we'd go find the white rabbit in the parking lot hop hopping around and I'd rip off the skin of oranges and set the peels on the dashboard (I told her itd make the car smell good) or I'd ask awkward questions about if she picks her nose and puts it under the car-seat,
for which her answer was of course, yes.

she spoke of Dan, the fisherman and depression and wanting more and I spoke of Dan and home and celibacy and I remember picking our faces together at night time
the yellow bathroom spreading behind, occasionally someone pooping with an awkward foot raised to wipe (you know what I mean)

once when I headed to bed and was saying goodnight, both of our faces speckled after we went digging she said "love you!" and I didnt know what to say, so I said it back. it had surprised me.

[Em, remember Promise? roaming the halls with her high-pitched itchy version of Amazing Grace? Jerk, can't believe you recorded that.] (we listened to it over and over)

the mountains looked like a large nose of a man laying face up in Homer's sea and we learned to sing together in one of the classrooms at ABI at ten o'clock at night and then we sang together
the restaurant called the mermaid where they tipped us in food and filled our jar with alittle cash and told us how well our voices filled the bookstore as well and we felt important, very important
Jared and Becky where there, I remember and they applauded with the rest

it all started in Alaska, the hat of America where I just happened to mention that I was going to hairschool and she happened to say she would too (i didn't believe you at first) but you told me the story about wanting to go, but only if God sent someone that would go with you. In April that same year we were both on our way to hairschool. Incredible.

we graduated (sort of) the same day. and talked about HAHA working at the same salon.

i watch Mem tonight peer over a bushy eyebrow with tweezers in hand or over a large head of foils coated in red hair color and recognize I barely remember the scared girl in the coffee shop who is actually very tall and strong in spirit
with short legs that gurrrll can move to music

she has become such a friend to me. one of those health-filled God-filled wow-this-is-God's-idea relationships where there is no fear and only honesty and wise cracks and farting competitions in breakrooms and douglas J halls

can you blame us?

love you memmie.

1 comment:

J.K. English said...

Love this. She sounds like a swell girl..;)