Friday, June 02, 2006

A warm, fuzzy stroll down memory lane.

Since my job requires the attention span of a goldfish with A.D.D., I spend the majority of my day on this site looking for long lost friends, and long lost... ahem, "friends"... wink, wink. Im always amazed how many people are actually on here.
Today I looked for my best friend from kindergarten through third grade, a girl whose name I can't mention. I'll just call her Angela Black. Shes not on here, and thus I can tell this story about her
When Ang and I were friends, she was this tiny, blonde haired, blue eyed angelic looking thing whom you would never believe could hurt a fly, and thus was the most evil, sadistic bitch on earth. Everything I know about being callous and unkind, I learned from Ang.
I also learned a lot about marriage from Ang's parents; Lisa and Tom. They openly loathed each other, but were very WASPy about it, i.e. they never had screaming/fist fights or called the cops on each other or performed any of the other Jewish Mating Rituals. Everything was handled with an icy silence.
One day, Mrs. Black hired a beautiful perky, eighteen year old Swedish girl as Ang's new nanny (she didnt have a career mind you, but apparently driving Ang from school to her tutor was a two person job). Her name was Inga, and when I slept over she would make us Swedish meatballs for dinner and Swedish pancakes for breakfast, and braid our hair, and tell us about all of her boyfriends back in Sweden. We loved her. She was like a living Barbie doll.
Then, one sad day a month or two after Ingas arrival, Ang and I came home from ballet, and Inga was gone. Apparently, Mr. Black had mysteriously contracted herpes, leaving a silently furious Mrs. Black to make us crappy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. We were never allowed to mention Inga's name in the house again, and soon it was as if she had never existed.
Ang and I eventually drifted apart, and since shes not on Myspace, Ill probably never get to reminisce with her about Inga.
I hear she's a natural foodist now.
How time distorts things.