A friend I served with in the Army was in town this weekend, (S.) We were inseparable before she got sent to Germany. It was the first time I had a BFF. I was eighteen when we met. We were the self-appointed cut-ups in our unit. (It may have been a factor in my extra time as a private.) For some reason, everything was hilarious to me back then. (Except the times when I was bawling, which was often.) It took me an embarrassingly long time to recognize the correlation.
S. used to hang out with me while I did whatever extra duty I acquired (for saying what I was thinking.) When people would honk and laugh at me while I picked weeds, she would flip them off on my behalf. We spent most of our free time noticing funny shit about the Army and laughing about it. I didn’t watch TV when I was in the service. We made our own entertainment. We spent a lot of time singing harmonies in the latrine. The acoustics were outstanding. We had a woman Executive Officer, which meant we were automatically signed up for every women’s event.
We ran a 10K (in El Paso when it was 104° F.) We played on the softball team, (I was benchwarmer/babysitter.) I’ve never played softball in my life. (But I did note the ball is not soft. It’s not soft at all.) I know this because the few times I was forced to go on the field, it was either left or right outfield, I forget. All I did was pray the ball didn’t come to me. The one time it did, it hit me in the forehead. I’d like to say I was lined up under the ball, preparing to catch it, and the sun got in my eyes; but actually, I didn’t see it. I was too busy thinking of what to offer God in trade for preventing the ball from coming to me.
I had a mild concussion, and I never had to go on the field again. (Yay.) S. still claims it’s the funniest thing she ever saw in her life, but she exaggerates sometimes. She told me what it’s like to be a mom. First, she thought about it for a while. She has two kids, both adults now. (She named her daughter, Heather!!) Then she laughed and started telling me. I have no idea how long we talked, but it was several hours. It felt like watching over her shoulder while she grew into this remarkable woman.
I haven’t slept since she left, so I’m still processing what she shared. I laughed when she told me it felt good to talk to someone who doesn’t interrupt. It’s sort of an inside joke. When we first started hanging out, she told me I listen like I’m memorizing everything she’s saying. I told her it’s because in a way I was, but I couldn’t elaborate. I got diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome not long after S., and I met. It’s funny because I used to get in trouble for constantly interrupting as a kid before I figured out I got more information by just listening.
I decided to watch more of the Stevie Nicks documentary (instead of sleeping.) I usually watch things in small segments when it’s my first viewing so I can process what I’m observing in between. I love that Stevie made this album in her home. It’s a big old house. It has a dramatic staircase that curves and a massive crystal chandelier in the foyer. She talks about her writing process, and how she’s been writing virtually her whole life. I smiled when I saw her with a stack of handwritten notebooks. I still have mine from ages six through eleven. It shows the deterioration of my handwriting as I began using a computer. I’m steadily devolving into just scratching an X for my signature.
I ordered all her live DVDs and music on CDs. Whenever I come across an artist I would love to experience live, I do this. It’s to make up for not being able to support them in person, (massive overstimulation.) It’s hard to grasp the fact I can own a copy of their music for less than $20. I struggle with this concept when it comes to authors and musicians. I feel in debt to some fascinating people. It doesn’t stress me out, though. It makes me feel very fortunate.
I squeed when I found out Stevie likes Twilight. She said she could relate to Bella when Edward abandoned her in the woods. Now I have to do a Twilight marathon, again. It’s been at least a year since I watched them. Honestly, I’m baffled by the people who insist they didn’t love the films. I usually suspect they’re lying, because who doesn’t want to watch beautiful vampires run around doing amazing shit like they have bionics and giant wolves and everyone is gorgeous? It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.