Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


Ten Years?

Hey Brett-

It's been a while, hasn't it? Just over six years now. You've missed a lot of shit, man. I mean, even in my life- I moved to Florida for a few years, just got back last spring. Well, you probably knew that already. I don't know what happened to our circle of friends. Last I saw John, was back when I was taking classes at HACC. Stupid thing of it is, I still don't remember why I was so angry with him in the first place. Y'know, we always thought it would be him, not you. He was always doing stupid shit, and amazingly not getting caught.

Saw Bono and Leahn just before Thanksgiving, a few days before your birthday. Bono's in Miami now, dating a great guy, and basically living his dream. Yeah, threw me for a loop too, when I found out, but I never did keep up with everyone. Leahn got married, and teaches English now. Can you imagine? She was lucky enough to not have Canter crush her soul, and ruin the English language for her forever like we did. Nikki has 2 babies now, and is the absolute perfect mom. And me? I'm a godmother, probably the worst one ever. Was even in Nikki's wedding. Her husband's swell. Babec got all wild, but you probably knew that too. She's having a baby this month, if you can believe it. (I certainly can't)

Hard to believe it's been 10 years, you know. The Mengele sisters are putting together a reunion. Heh, I know. I alternate between wanting to go, and knowing that none of the people I cared about would attend anyway. We were all such anti-social pricks. Most of the rest of the class could go to hell and it wouldn't bother me a bit. You'd probably make it tolerable- we'd get liquored up and you'd start doing your Andrew Dice Clay impersonation, and give me the giggle fits. We could laugh about your mom on homecoming. God, what a night that was between my having to pick you up since your car wasn't running, to insisting on paying for my own dinner, to stupid Neal fighting with stupid Reina, to only getting to dance with you once... hella night, hey?

Ten years. Gawd. Where the hell did that time go? When did I become a responsible adult? When did it become OK for people to call me Ma'am? I thought I was going to take over the world, or at least a third world country by now. I suppose neither one of us ended up the way we had planned. You were going to France, and I was going to join the volunteer service. That worked out, didn't it.

For my new job, I drive by the high school every day, and by the curve in the road, the third light pole in- the one with your car door still resting at the base. When I go by I usually say "hi", and wonder what it would be like if you were still around. I wonder if we'd still have the same parties we used to have, (you know, I can't watch The Ref without thinking of your basement) or if we'd have gone our separate ways, communicating by email every few months, swearing to get together but something would always come up. While I'm driving, I hope that wouldn't be the case. And I hope that wherever you are there's a good band, all the Dice you can tolerate, and the biggest, slobberiest black lab known to man. Most of all, I miss you.

Thanks for everything,



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