Okay, I’m admittedly new to this whole blogging thing. But it seems to be coming quite naturally at the moment so I’ll continue as long as it makes sense and there’s positive feedback.
So far, I’ve been cautious about just how much to share from these experiences and I’ve been uber respectful of the parties involved. I always ask if they mind if I mention them. The response is generally an enthusiastic and resounding yes. But there’s this one friend….
Well, she was super supportive and didn’t mind being involved. I’m not sure if she thought I might go off the deep end or reveal some deep, dark secrets that we don’t actually possess. None of these electronics or social media outlets existed when we were kids so there is no actual evidence of anything we did. And seriously, we’re grateful for that! However, she does have a high profile job that could find flaw in the slightest thing I say so she asked for a pseudo name. Now don’t try to guess who she is, if you know me in person, because you never will and I’ll never tell. Neither will Cheryl. It’ll go to the grave.
You know….okay, stay on the train for a minute while I digress…that’s one of the really great things about Cheryl (the Gail to my Oprah if you haven’t been following). She and I have known each other over 40 years, and we have a lot of friends that are mutual, and a lot that are “her” group or “my” group that we just know of or see sometimes through each other. When her friends find out that I knew her dad when he was still alive (who was awesome by the way), or her family, or was involved in shenanigans of any sort with her, they think they will be able to pin me down and get me to reveal all her “secrets”. Guess what? No way. We are loyal to each other. That’s how we’ve stayed friends so long. Real friends don’t rat you out. But…I usually let them think they can and get a bunch of free drinks or desserts or something until they figure out their pressure will never work on me.
Having said that, I immediately sent Cheryl a text and we were off to the races:
Me: she doesn’t want to be identified. We have to come up with a pseudo name. She said it needs to be exotic. What about Appolonia?
Her: Bitsy. Let’s call her Bitsy.
Me: She’ll hate that. It’s not exactly exotic. Anastasia?
Her: Yeah but she deserves it because of that one time….what about Lois or Betty?
Me: Marguerite? Coco? Like Chanel, not the ape.
Her: I like Coco.
Me: She’ll think we mean the ape. What about 80’s tunes? Will that help? My Sharona?
Her: Eileen. Come on, Eileen.
Me: Oh, Sherry.
Me: I’m crying now. I don’t think she knows how bad she screwed up letting us choose her identity. Because really, we basically have to put her in the witness protection program. We have to make up her job, too.
Her: Duh…no brainer. Stripper.
I welcome reader suggestions at this point….I’m still thinking about it. And quite frankly, my invisible exotic friend, you kinda asked for it….you are about to become a very interesting piece of fiction.