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of the very best things about having someone write a guest entry for
your site is that you get to say nice things about the person that don't
normally come up in conversation. Like this:
is easily one of the funniest, most talented people I've ever met and
if if it wasn't for her site, Squishy, which blazed more than a few
trails for online journalers everywhere, there would certainly be no
weird coincidences and mutual circles of friends and interests (I'm
convinced it has something to do with our being born a day apart), I've
been Pamie's boss/editor, co-worker, stage-sharer, karaoke partner,
house guest, Kenny Rogers song serenader, bitter online karaoke contest
rival, e-mail shit-talker, forum dweller, gossip enabler and Coffee
Bean junkie friend over the last three years. Oh, and to her, I am and
always will be very gay.
though, I'm proud to call her a colleague and a friend. Here's Pamie.
I'm the last one in with
my account of the events, even though I do think it was my idea
to have all of us record our individual sides of the story. I'm
late because of the holidays, and because I'm a travelling lady
lately. I'm late because I can't stop going to the movie theater
to see Harry Potter. Mostly I'm late for old time's sake,
because Omar's used to me getting things in just past deadline,
but earlier than Way Too Late. He misses me, so.
Two masters of espionage and an unsuspecting
Okay, so late October
when everything was horribly sad, the only thing that made any sense
was to get on the phone with Anna
Beth and buy tickets to go see Allison
and Chris. That sounds easy enough but searching Internet airline
companies with Anna Beth on the phone ended up being a two-hour
ordeal. Once we found two flights that were landing close to each
other, the price changed half-way through Anna Beth's purchase.
We had to start all over again. Part two of this scheme was to come
up with a lie that would trick Allison into thinking that Anna Beth's
husband was still coming on the trip. I have to admit I felt a little
guilty about kicking Master V out of his planned vacation, but we
decided the girlie weekend would be more important. That's right,
we decided. Anna Beth and I know what's best for anyone.
If you ever need your life planned, just give us a call.
I called Chris to let
him know that we'd already decided what was to happen to him on
a November weekend in a few weeks. He was happy to hear we were
coming, but instantly filled with fear when I told him we were thinking
about keeping my visit a surprise. "Yeah, she'd be really surprised,
and I think it's a great idea, but I'm going to blow it." He turned
down our first two stories for him to give Allison. Apparently the
story had to be believable enough that Chris could actually trick
himself into believing it was the truth, otherwise any other lie
would end with the words, "… but I'm lying and actually Pamie's
coming to visit."
We decided on the Vince
Visit lie, and that he and Anna Beth had to take two different planes
because they didn't buy their tickets at the same time. Anna Beth
and I were to land three hours apart. AB said they'd just take Allison
somewhere and get her boozy while they waited for me to land.
When you live in Los
Angeles and your friends live on the East coast, you constantly
feel out of the loop. There have been several times in the past
few weeks that I'd wake up and literally the country was already
on fire. In this case I'd wake up to find e-mails where Chris was
near the breaking point, cracking from the pressure of Allison's
random questions about the Chaos' upcoming visit. We had to be vigilant,
hunker down and convince Chris that this was like war. He had to
stay focused and keep his eye on the prize. We would bribe and threaten
him. We all worried that Chris couldn't keep quiet. I had to play
the counter game.
I casually e-mailed Allison
every once in a while, looking like a neglectful friend who wasn't
paying enough attention to her so she didn't ever suspect that I
was getting giddy at my upcoming visit. She'd tell me that Chris
had been acting strange lately, and that he must be sick of her.
I could tell that he was probably packing his bags to stay at a
hotel until I arrived so he wouldn't ruin everything. Allison thought
that Chris was distant. Chris thought that Allison was catching
on because he kept running to the bathroom to laugh at how brilliant
our plan was going. My visit was ruining their relationship.
Allison's house and sang a song into their answering machine:
Allison and Chris.
Allison and Chris.
Allison and Chris they are my friends!
They live all the way
Over in Atlan-tay
And so I called them up, over here in L.A.!
Okay, so Pamie was crazy
in Los Angeles, AB was crazy in Dallas, Chris was crazy at home.
Everyone looked normal again. (By the way, that song I wrote on
the fly (yeah, on the fly, aren't I good?) has been in my head ever
since. I should record it so I can have a number eight hit and make
tons of cash and then get a drug habit and burn out so I can finally
live the L.A. lifestyle I've been avoiding for the past year.)
As the day approached,
I couldn't believe Allison still had no clue. I realized that Allison
must already think Chris is the weirdest man in Atlanta, if him
running to the bathroom to giggle didn't cause her to blink an eye.
If I found my boyfriend doubled over with laughter in the bathroom
and he blamed it on how funny the Far Side calendar entry
was for that day? Time for a major talk. For Allison, apparently,
it's just, "Chris. Y'all, he's a jag."
here's where my friend who knows Chris very well informed me: "He's
going to crack. He'll crack and spill everything because she asked
him to pass the salt or something. Then he'll cry and make her promise
not to tell you guys that he told her everything. He's probably got
a rash or something now from all the pressure. You guys are killing
him, you know. I can't believe everyone doesn't know yet."
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