Vicarious Life

August 04, 2005
I know that I’ve mentioned my best friend Kathleen before. She’s the flight attendant who lives in NYC.

It’s funny how our paths have “diverged” over the years – and yet . . . we can still hang out like old friends and it’s all cool.

I guess I should start out by how we met.

We met at church when I was 15 and she was 16. First impressions of each other were – “Yikes! Get some makeup” (me of her) and “That girl is stuck up with no reason to be” (her of me.) OUCH!

I wouldn’t call her homely, per se . . . okay so maybe I would. (Sorry K, but you’d say the same.)

Cut to five years later – she’s lost weight, she’s let me pluck her eyebrows, she’s discovered blonde hair dye and makeup and . . . well . . .the rest is history. I’d post before and after shots but she would KILL ME! She’s very protective of those “pre babe-metamorphosis photos” for some reason. Personally I’d be splashing them all over the place – kind of the same way I hope to splash the “look how fat I used to be” photos some sweet day.

But – ENOUGH about that.

The writing of this blog entry was prompted by a phone call from her a few days ago which went like this:

“Hey dude – I met a guy in Sweden. He’s totally hot. I’m going back in two weeks to hang out with him.

This is a typical phone call from her. Actually, the first thing you always ask upon getting a call or phoning is “Where are you?” The answer could be anything from “just near the Wailing Wall” to “a crappy hotel in Birmingham waiting for my next flight.”

And so you could say I live a little vicariously through her. Let’s break it down into a cute listing, shall we:

Even when Kathleen came back to the states – her life was still glamorous. For one thing, she chose NYC as her home. And then she went to work for the Consulate of Monaco where she hung out with Prince Albert (and not the kind that comes in the can.)

Then she went into the whole flight attendant thing – so she could continue seeing the world pretty much for free.

And just this week she’s telling me about her Swedish meatball.

Oh Kat! How I know you want to settle down... But let me live vicariously through you for just a bit more. At least until Jude is here!

I cropped her out of the Consulate of Monaco staff photo.

10:43 a.m. ::
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