It's taken me a long time to learn to love suprises. I was a methodical little kid who liked playing in very small groups or with imaginary friends because then everyone already knows the intricate rules to: Bury All The Dishes or Build a Space Station And Fill It With Fish. and all the other totally ingenious games I invented. My mom threw me a suprise birthday party when I was 5 years old.
I came up the stairs.
Everyone yelled 'Suprise!'.
I had my first panic attack.
This -however- is not the point. The Point Is that hotmail is dumb and when I walked into my apartment last night, Chloe was brushing her teeth in my bathroom and her mom was flipping through photo albums in the wingback.
Perhaps you are thinking that I must have just forgotten she was coming (it's been known to happnen) and that maybe she has a key (there was a time when she did) and that I love her, so who cares? (Smallest Bird of Awkward Flight!). But I didn't forget because I didn't know, and she doesnt have a key because she told me she borrowed the secret spare and returned it to the carton of eggs as opposed to it's traditional hiding place, and I do love her but that doesnt change the fact that when He Who Was Walking Me Home and I came through the door it was like a pleasant, if unexpected, redo of my 5th birthday.
Walk down the hall.
Open the door.
"Hi Sonabear! (she takes a moment to realize that I'm not by myself. laughter) Oh shit!"
So we all three girls lay in my bed and talk about books and color schemes and wild revolutions all night long. Like a birthday, but no cake.
Posted by Sonya at December 20, 2002 09:22 AM