Yes, today is a shout-out to my BFF Woodstock. This is us at the Church Annual Meeting, and yes, for some stupid reason I decided to spike my hair. No, he isn't trying to strangle me...this time.
I tell Woodstock that he's the love child of Sergei Eisenstein (the great Soviet filmmaker--Battleship Potemkin, etc.--and Carl Theodor Dreyer (great Danish filmmaker...) He finds this amusing...
AND HERE ARE HIS CHER-LEGS ABOVE...Women, look upon them with envy...
- All RIGHT, get off my back but I didn't have the banana and cashew butter last night. I took myself to Pei Wei (may its name live in blessed memory) and I had steamed edamame and the Asian Chopped Chicken Salad without the friend wonton but with extra cucumbers and cilantro.
- And then this morning, because I was feeling so...tired (warm weather = allergens in the air. Must. Use. Neti. Pot. Tonight.), I had a breakfast bagel at Old School, with ham on Asiago. Oh yes, it was good, and you're right, I need to knock OFF the bagel-a-day habit.
- I have been so tired (see bullet #2) that I haven't exercised at all, and this weekend, although I am packing for Weltha's Big Move Down The Road (let there be trumpets and the Blue Angels flying overhead...), I am going to work in some walks and a jump or two on the doggone rebounder.
Have you ever had one of those friends you just love to bits and you can't really say why except that you just love them to bits? Well, that would be Woodstock.
Who is Woodstock...what is he?
Well, he's a graduate student, about a year away from his doctorate in Philosophy of Education. He goes to St. Jerome's and sings in the Choir--in fact, it turns out we now sit next to each other. I only have one word to say about that: "Phoebe!" He's brilliant, funny, has legs like Cher, can sing like Cher (well, he sings her stuff and he sings it great...doesn't exactly sound like her but then who does?), and he is my friend. He has two cats, Eartha and Sarah, and he says cats are always sweetnesses. He says other things too but this is a family-friendly blog...I'm totally with him on the cat thing.
How do I love Woodstock? Let me count the ways.
- He sticks with me. Woodstock has known me during the time I was unemployed, having all sorts of issues on where I would be living, and not doing well with my bipolar meds. In other words, he has known me when I was a cryin' mess, and he still loves me and is my friend. That's HUGE, people. Anyone can be your friend when it's goin' great--he has been my friend through the storm.
- He is intelligent. I mean, he reads philosophy and that's why he's in this doctoral program. He actually knows what Hannah Arendt published, what she said, and what it means. And he can quote her, although it's not like me quoting Milton. Trust me on this one...No, he can keep up with me when I'm talking about stuff. I like this. I like smart men. He's extremely smart. And he knows stuff I don't know. Well...and vice versa, but still...
- He is funny. Wednesday night in Choir I had to mouth the words "Please behave yourself" at him because he was being terribly funny and I was giggling like a madwoman and trying to pay attention and not cause a ruckus. If you're my friend, you have to be funny. Woodstock qualifies.
- He is the kindest person. When I was unemployed, he paid my rent one month [he's cringing as he reads this because he is extremely self-effacing and not the kind who wants to attract lots of attention. Unlike me.], bought me groceries, put gas in my car, got me cat food and cat litter, and even gave me mad money so I could do things like go to the movies. And gave me his second laptop. Which I proceded to spill water under (Mimsey knocked over a glass but I shouldn't have had the glass out...) and it now needs help. But that's not the point. He has been kind to me--and put up with me when I was a mess.
- He is on my side. Sometimes, he wants to fuss at people he thinks haven't treated me fairly--he doesn't because he's more disciplined that way than I am but he speaks strongly about it. And he is excited at whatever good things happen to me. This is a friend.
- He thinks I'm really smart and really beautiful. Again, this is a friend. And it's mutual (okay, I think he's handsome, not beautiful. He's a boy for Bob's sake...)
Woodstock is my friend. And I am his. World without end, amen. And yes, our picture together is the first one you see in our church brochure. So we kinda have to stay friends...which we were gonna do anyway...
By the way, he is actually cuter than his picture. And by now, he's really cringing at this post. Well, tough toenails, because I calls them as I sees them...
Next Wednesday is Weigh-In Wednesday. Mark your calendars!