I have this best friend. Today I called her in tears. This is not necessarily unusual, but it has been quite some time since I had a reason to cry, much less a reason to call her while crying. But I did call her crying today. She listened to me sob for a while and tried to soothe and calm me. Finally, when I had settled down enough, she broke the news: she had recently slept with a one armed man. Upon hearing this, I immediately stopped crying and almost spit the Dr. Pepper I was drinking across the room. He was hot, she explained, and though he never calls, he does infrequently text her and she's fine with that. She doesn't like clingers anyways.
Wow. I love my best friend. I want to sleep with an infrequently texting, attractive, one armed man too if for no other reason than to say that I slept with an attractive, non-clingy one armed man. If anything, this conversation proves to me that I have the best friends in the world. They are such terribly interesting people that no matter how sad I am they usually have something ridiculous to tell me to get my mind off my own things.
Which reminds me of the drunk dial I received from Gene yesterday at 2:35am. He said he was in the gayest situation in all of Alaska, which did and did not surprise me. It surprised me because I didn't know Gene was in Alaska. It did not surprise me that Gene was in a gay situation because despite being straight, Gene can often be found in ridiculously gay surroundings. The rest of the message was slurred (Gene also can't speak with he is inebriated), but it made me happy. I have good, amusing friends that can help me endure even the worst of life circumstances.
So here's to you, friends. Your antics make my life bearable. Thanks.
