;)
Sunday
Sep272009
In Fact, Everyone I Know WAS Born In September, Why Do You Ask?
Sunday, September 27, 2009 at 2:42AM
I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you.
Well, that's not exactly true. It's close, just replace working with sitting on my ass eating Klondike Bars and waitress with housewife and, by proxy, legal prostitute and cocktail bar with a socialist country that will never be America, no matter how hard it tries to be. Kind of like a Palm Treo. Ain't never gonna be a Blackberry; also, less expensive with better customer service.
BUT IT STILL ISN'T A BLACKBERRY, DAMMIT.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, the day I met you being all groupiesque like everyone in the goddamn world, I've come to realize, is with you in public. My first clue should have been that I wasn't the least bit nervous or intimidated in meeting you, which has only ever happened to me when meeting the three people who, until .5 seconds previous, were in my vagina. And even that was a little awkward.
But there's nothing in the world better than holding the baby who's been screaming in your face for six hours straight and just puked in your mouth for the 13th time and saying, "Oh yeah? I totally pooped on your face once." It's the little things.
So I met you and you were as gracious as I've since seen you be with everyone who has to take a moment of your life to paw on you, and that's totally your own fault because you are a goddamn magnet. People can't help but be drawn to you. We want to touch you, to stand near you, to hear your soft words and smell your subtle perfume and languish in your gentle presence. You are such a different creature than the one you play on the internet; she is rough and jaded, you are soft and fragile. She is loud and boisterous and headstrong, you are above all other things humble and meek.
And I am in love with the both of you.
I can't put my finger on the moment when you bewitched me, but you have. You just came along with your shotgun and your knitting needles and your squadron of conflicting rebellions and you laced our hearts together. Our lives up until this point have run on the most uncanny sort of parallel, and I didn't realize how much I needed someone who knew, who really knew because they'd been there, too, what is was like inside my head and my heart and my soul. I needed you, and you came along just in the nick of time.
Or maybe it was all the dildo talk, I don't know. Either way, I'm rather fond of you now, and so is my husband.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how much I thank the flying spaghetti monster every day that I get to have you in my life, that I have this bosom companion out there and that we actually managed to find our way to each other. Through the internet. I guess I should thank Al Gore, eh? Or maybe Al Gore is the flying spaghetti monster. Oh my god, Al Gore is a deity. And good for him for sticking to the Buddha diet plan rather than that emaciated, nailed to a tree one the Vatican seems so fond of hanging all over the walls. Really, you're the fucking Messiah. EAT SOMETHING. I'm pretty sure they'll let you run a tab if you're strapped for cash. Or hell, I hear Judas has some extra change laying around somewhere. Hit him up.
See, Tanis, my birthday present to you is making a shitload of people unsubscribe from my blog so that you can remain the most widely read blogger in Canada. Also, offending our lord and savior. I love you that much.
So, on your birthday I can only offer you what you've showered me with since the day I met you in a smokey bar in San Franciso just over a year ago, and that is the promise of silly days to come
And love when you are in need
And wisdom and counsel on the days when you are lost
And the courage and strength to get up every day and make it a little better than the one before
But most of all, I promise to be here, always, no matter where the actual "here" ends up being. I'll always be as close as your heart, because I just don't think I could breathe without you. And thank you for that. I needed that the most.
Well, that's not exactly true. It's close, just replace working with sitting on my ass eating Klondike Bars and waitress with housewife and, by proxy, legal prostitute and cocktail bar with a socialist country that will never be America, no matter how hard it tries to be. Kind of like a Palm Treo. Ain't never gonna be a Blackberry; also, less expensive with better customer service.
BUT IT STILL ISN'T A BLACKBERRY, DAMMIT.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, the day I met you being all groupiesque like everyone in the goddamn world, I've come to realize, is with you in public. My first clue should have been that I wasn't the least bit nervous or intimidated in meeting you, which has only ever happened to me when meeting the three people who, until .5 seconds previous, were in my vagina. And even that was a little awkward.
But there's nothing in the world better than holding the baby who's been screaming in your face for six hours straight and just puked in your mouth for the 13th time and saying, "Oh yeah? I totally pooped on your face once." It's the little things.
So I met you and you were as gracious as I've since seen you be with everyone who has to take a moment of your life to paw on you, and that's totally your own fault because you are a goddamn magnet. People can't help but be drawn to you. We want to touch you, to stand near you, to hear your soft words and smell your subtle perfume and languish in your gentle presence. You are such a different creature than the one you play on the internet; she is rough and jaded, you are soft and fragile. She is loud and boisterous and headstrong, you are above all other things humble and meek.
And I am in love with the both of you.
I can't put my finger on the moment when you bewitched me, but you have. You just came along with your shotgun and your knitting needles and your squadron of conflicting rebellions and you laced our hearts together. Our lives up until this point have run on the most uncanny sort of parallel, and I didn't realize how much I needed someone who knew, who really knew because they'd been there, too, what is was like inside my head and my heart and my soul. I needed you, and you came along just in the nick of time.
Or maybe it was all the dildo talk, I don't know. Either way, I'm rather fond of you now, and so is my husband.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how much I thank the flying spaghetti monster every day that I get to have you in my life, that I have this bosom companion out there and that we actually managed to find our way to each other. Through the internet. I guess I should thank Al Gore, eh? Or maybe Al Gore is the flying spaghetti monster. Oh my god, Al Gore is a deity. And good for him for sticking to the Buddha diet plan rather than that emaciated, nailed to a tree one the Vatican seems so fond of hanging all over the walls. Really, you're the fucking Messiah. EAT SOMETHING. I'm pretty sure they'll let you run a tab if you're strapped for cash. Or hell, I hear Judas has some extra change laying around somewhere. Hit him up.
See, Tanis, my birthday present to you is making a shitload of people unsubscribe from my blog so that you can remain the most widely read blogger in Canada. Also, offending our lord and savior. I love you that much.
So, on your birthday I can only offer you what you've showered me with since the day I met you in a smokey bar in San Franciso just over a year ago, and that is the promise of silly days to come
And love when you are in need
And wisdom and counsel on the days when you are lost
And the courage and strength to get up every day and make it a little better than the one before
But most of all, I promise to be here, always, no matter where the actual "here" ends up being. I'll always be as close as your heart, because I just don't think I could breathe without you. And thank you for that. I needed that the most.
Reader Comments (25)
There's that Tanis that the lucky ones of us get to see. Beautiful post, and happy birthday, redneck!
A perfect tribute to a beloved friend... Happy Birthday Tanis!
That was beautiful. You are lucky to have each other.
What a gorgeous, loving post. Happy birthday to Tanis, from *another* September baby (except I don't think I'm going to be getting a post like that from anyone).
I've had almost an entire month of birthday posts too, because September is a MONTH OF AWESOME.
Happy birthday Tanis!
a big giant AWWW THAT IS SO SWEET in a really sickly voice, because, honestly. that is so sweet.
I love you so gawddamned much.
I'll forgive you for clogging up my damn sinuses with buckets of snot that have now dammed up my nose forever and caused my eyes to leak a bit.
Thank you Shannon.
There are just no words adequate enough to express my love.
Or my annoyance of posting that ugly ass pic of me looking like the chick in Something About Mary.
GAH.
That was all kinds of sweetness. Happy birthday, Tanis.
That is seriously some on the level friend true friend shit.
My friends don't even check their email. *sigh*
Happy Brithday, Tanis! I heart you both.
I have a friend who means that much to me, too. You guys are lucky ladies.
Happy Birthday to Tanis!
Unsubscribe? Hell, all the more reason to read you!
The best birthday present I have ever received in my entire life: http://bit.ly/124T9x
What a wonderful tribute & gift to your friend. Happy Birthday Tanis!
You know me, a little edgy with the religious slights but a good friend is GREAT!
Very nicely done.
very, very cool post. i was going to send her a tube of titty glitter, which seems really lame now.
;)
I love when you write about the people you love. You write feelings so. damn. well.
Happy Birthday to your friend, Tanis.
But I am NOT unsubscribing. :-)
you are quite good on describing feelings. That was a nice birthday present for a friend. Do you mind if I copy-and-paste for my friend's birthday next week? Just joking!
Good job!
I need a friend like you. You love with everything you have. *sigh*
gorgeous post for a gorgeous friendship.
Sounds like a friendship for the ages. Sigh... all my bestest friends are hundreds of miles away. Thanks for warming my heart and depressing me all at once. It's a gift.
I love September babies - their birth stone is sapphire, all that deep, intense blue. This was gorgeous. Thanks for writing it.
You were truly touched by his noodley appendage when you wrote this, weren't you? Arrrrrgsome!
http://www.venganza.org" rel="nofollow">
Ah the baby born of New Year's Eve fun. Or that's what I've always assumed as mine day rolls around the first week or so.
Happy birthday! What a great birthday post. :)