Introducing Don

I could dedicate stories to Don for an entire week.  We have done a lot together.  And I don't think I am the only person who feels this way.  Don is just a doer.  He likes games, fun, music, and... fun.  Donnie is fun.  Before committing to a single story, I will create a top-ten list of my favorite adventures with Donnie. 

10. Winning that bar contest at Graham's.  He held a spray-painted broomstick between his legs while I sandpapered the paint off as fast as I could.  The stick was flaming hot and paintless as we collected our Budweiser victory hats.

9. Hanging out at Jessica's pool.  We usually had guitar sing-along time in the sunshine.

8. Seeing God in St. Peter's.  As a child I thought when sun rays beamed through the clouds, that was God.  Walking into St. Peter's in Rome, Donnie pointed at a big shaft of light coming through the marble window and said nonchalantly, "Look Bree, it's God."

7. Don's car.  Kermit.  It's green.

6. Donnie is a fantastic rock singer--he's wasting his time with this opera nonsense.  I miss singing Ben Folds at the top of our voices while driving in Las Cruces.

5. "In The Buff" (Don's former a capella group/fraternity)'s version of "Pinball Wizard" is the bomb

4. He can blow spit bubbles.

3. We talked every night for almost a year when we moved to our respective big cities. 

2. He leaves me rambling musical messages.

1. Don convinced me for 4 months that when he was a child, he changed his name from Frank to Donald. 

And now for my anecdote:  Early in my Chicago residency, Donnie participated in a young artist program in Cleveland.  On a Thursday (if memory serves) Donnie told me Jason Mraz would be performing in Cleveland Friday.  Realizing I had the two following days off of work, I jumped in my car and drove.  Big adventure. 

When I arrived, we drove around Little Italy and got some lunch at a deli.  We walked around looking for some dessert.  Donnie mentioned that he heard about a world-class doughnut shop in Little Italy.  We searched and found it.  Hoping he could point us in the direction of the holy grail of all pastries--maybe fluorescent sprinkles, perhaps mango jelly-filled, or a 3-pound crueller--we asked the guy at the counter for the best one.  He pointed silently to the most demure little doughnut ever.  It was a sour cream.  Sour cream?  Didn't sound right to me, but in the spirit of adventure (after all I was with Donald, the fun friend), we split one.  That unimpressive-looking lump of fried dough made our souls sing.  It was, and still is, the best doughnut I have ever put in my mouth.  What an adventure.  In Cleveland.

Introducing Lauren

A lot of people talk behind Lauren's back.  Myself included. 

Lauren burst into my office a few weeks ago.  She was trying to get people to join a pool or a fantasy league.  May the ghost of Harry Caray strike me dead, but I live in Chicago, and I HATE SPORTS!!  I have zero interest in stats, players, etc.  My office always rallies the troops, especially during the slow season, to join football pools and the like.  Anyway, I was doing my best to ignore her, because it looked like she was trying to make eye contact with me.  I did not want to throw good money away in the name of professional sports.  Well, Lauren waited.  She stood there until I paid attention to her.  Turns out she was assembling a fantasy league of celebrities.  Like the Betty Ford Olympics.  I had to laugh. 

I have heard people talk about Lauren.  Mutterings in the lunchroom about her superior work ethic.  I, myself, have gossipped that she is able to get along with just about anyone.  So, there.  I said it.  She's friendly.  OKAY??!!

Introducing Stephen

Hair. 

Long hair, blond hair, thick hair, eyebrow hair, HAIR!  Stephen's hair is to be envied.  I met Stephen in high school.  He was a couple years younger than me, and he just had this... hair.  I dunno, he had this page-boy haircut, a shade of blond you can't duplicate no matter how many highlights you pay for.  If that wasn't enough, he did what I wanted every boy to do in the early nineties.  He put it in little braids.  It was pretty cute.  About a year later, he did what I wanted NO boy to do in the early nineties.  He cut it!  But, even though it was shorter, it was equally dramatic in style.  Then he radically bleached his locks.  I missed the natural blond, but I envied his willingness to make a change like that.  I only had the guts to dye my hair maroon. 

This head of hair just seemed to have a life of its own.  I credit Stephen as being the first metrosexual I ever knew, mostly because I imagine he had an arsenal of hair products for his morning grooming regime. 

I look at Stephen's pictures now, and breathe a sigh of relief that his passion for good hair hasn't wavered.  Or maybe it's the hair that gets to make the decision.  Maybe Stephen never had a choice.  Hmm...

Introducing Greg

You know how you can just tell when a person is a lawyer?  Or a teacher?  Some folks just exude their profession.  My friend Greg is a cartoonist.  As well as drawing wild characters, Greg appears to be a living breathing cartoon.  He is larger than life physically, vocally, and comically.  Several months ago, Marky and I walked up the sidewalk to the gym.  Greg, already inside, spied us approaching, leapt over a table, and slapped himself onto the storefront window, resembling one of those super-stretchy gummy spiders that stick to walls.  He made desperate eye contact with us, breathing a little cloud of  fog on the glass. 

Another time, at a restaurant, Greg told us a story about a jungle animal (I thought it was a gorilla, but they're vegetarians, right?) that was sniffing its prey.  Instead of describing the scene to us with colorful adjectives and action words, he arched his head downward, puffed up his chest and began menacingly sniffing our faces.  That's the way to tell a story. 

He also draws really neat stuff and he likes kitties.  In addition to having huge biceps, he's also a big old sweetheart.

Introducing Dani

This is a tough one.  In high school, we had a little group of friends who hung out at lunch, had parties, went to football games, etc.  Dani was a part of my group, but I really never got to know her well in high school.  Although she was quiet, I remember her laughing a bunch and being really intelligent--smarty.  I was used to being the oldest in my class, since I was born in December.  But I think Dani was born in August before me, which meant she got her driver's license first--lucky.  Also, the first time I ever saw a laptop was at her house.  It had one of those little buttons in the middle of the keyboard that acted as a mouse--fancy.  Anyway, after high school, we just lost touch.

This is why I love blogs.  And MySpace, for that matter.  I don't think Dani and I really had any meaningful conversations when we were arm's length from each other, but I know so much about her now.  And I am really proud of who she is.  Find your old acquaintances.  They probably have something to say.

Introducing Tifanie

Tifanie was a Junior when I was a Freshman in high school.  We were in theater and French class together.  Tifanie was sort of dark and mysterious at first, but when I got to know her better, she was downright sweet and maternal.  There were three things that Tifanie did that I wanted to emulate: She laughed like a woman, not a girl.  She dyed her hair cool colors.   She also sounded like a real Frenchy when she recited text in Mr. Harrison's class. 

For reasons unknown to myself, Tifanie had an argument with a fellow thespian, Simon.  She was obviously very upset with him, and he needed to apologize.  In lieu of flowers (which would have been a good move at that point), Simon brought Tifanie an artichoke.  Instead of raising an eyebrow, like a scorned woman should have, Tifanie threw her head back in laughter and forgave him.  It was a good lesson for me.