Tuesday, January 29, 2013

A Boy Friend, Not a Boyfriend

Happy birthday to Bride Boy, my Best Male Friend! (Albeit a day late.) I did write to him on his natal day, but, as I told him, it had been a day packed with a lot of computer-sitting for me, so after eight hours of editing a case study about education in the Philippines and then another hour of writing a long loving newsy note to my pally, I couldn't drum up the bandwidth to write a blog post and instead climbed into bed with the Globe crossword puzzle and my latest library book, Hell or High Water.

(I'm also reading Anna Karenina, sloooooooooowly. Anna Karenina is no Jane Eyre, I'll say that. But it's early days, maybe it will pick up.)

I met Bride Boy sometime in the '80s when we both worked for Planned Parenthood, and at first he was barely on my radar; he seemed about 14 years old. (Look at that adorable baby face!) But his essential awesomeness quickly became clear and we became great friends — though our alliance was cemented for life when we decided to road-trip to Chicago, his hometown and the residence of my soon-to-be-former Best Male Friend, TNT, a college friend. We had so much fun; we talked and talked and talked, we played tons of music that we mostly agreed on (he was appalled that I made him listen to "The Best of Barbara Mandrell," and I had a similar reaction to his Grateful Dead tape. But mostly we agreed), we splurged on a nice hotel on our last night of the trip and swam in their pool, and he took a picture of me lounging on the piano (I forgot to ask Husband to scan it — stay tuned!) — just, total fun. And we got along the whole time! With very few arguments!*

One of our last discussions concerned whether I would drive him all the way home or drop him off at (I think) the T stop. While this unresolved question hung in the air, we stopped to fill my car with gas. It was his turn to pay, but he had to go to the bathroom or something, so I told the attendant what to do. Here is a transcript:**
  • Attendant: Hi, what'll it be?
  • Me: Fill 'er up, please.
  • Attendant: Premium?
  • Me (only half listening): Yeah, sure.
  • Bride Boy (from a billion feet away): Premium??? You are definitely taking me home!!
Bride Boy moved to the other coast shortly after I met Husband, so we haven't lived near each other for two decades, and I miss him. (He was one of my bridal attendants, resplendent in a forest-green tie and cummerbund to match the ladies; hence his blog name.) In my day-to-day life now, the man I hang out with most (besides Husband of course) is my pal Superdad, whom I see every day when we do Math Practice together. I'm also good friends with Handsome D and my Alterna-Husband, but in those cases it's hard for me to imagine doing something only with them and not their wives. (I mean, I'd love to, they are great guys; it just seems unlikely to occur.) But Superdad and I see each other all the time. He's a great buddy.
My best friends tend to be female, but I really like having guy friends too.

So! Happy birthday, my dear friend of so many years. I hope your day was wonderful.

Today is one of my crazy days of going from thing to thing to thing: This morning I'm taking two editing tests (I may have a new client, which would be fantastic) and proofing some more Snowy pages, Math Practice will be early since it's an early release day in the elementary schools, then I'm helping at the middle school's Book Fair (the only volunteer thing I ever do at Martini's school) and bringing home Martini's glock while he's at his after-school LARP program (don't ask), I've got an editing job for this afternoon (due first thing tomorrow), and I end my day at zumba. Whee! Watch me go.

There's snow on the ground, Husband just shoveled our front steps, yet tomorrow is predicted to be 50 degrees. I love a New England winter! (Bride Boy, don't you miss it? Come back to me!)

Love to all,
Lady C

* I say that we argue all the time. He says that we never argue, we simply have interesting and provocative discussions. I will simply note that he channeled his ability to sustain an interesting and provocative discussion into a paying career: He is a lawyer.

** I remember everything. He forgets details and thinks I'm a freak because I remember everything. This is something we argue about provocatively discuss.


  1. Every time you write about Martini's glock, I think of a Glock (pistol). After I got your Xmas letter (thanks so much - I still haven't done mine and so it's looking doubtful for 2012), I googled glockenspiel and one of the images is this button: "Glockenspiel player by day, deadly ninja by night." I think Martini might like that. I also have a fantastic memory - why are so many people suspicious of that? I will now attempt to post this as my aging eyes struggle to read the TWO secret codes I must decipher to prove I am human...

    1. I must get that shirt!!!!!!

      Yeah, totally agree about the memory thing. I'm not sure what buttons it sets off for people. Am I thrilled that I remember the exact type of lettuce I bought the weekend that Bride Boy and I had a really big fight? No. I'm sure I could use that brain space for something more useful. But remember it I do. (Red leaf lettuce, FYI. Bride Boy was not a fan.)

  2. Such a busy day! But Happy Birthday to Bride Boy. And all the luck to you that you get the editing job! Tally ho!

    1. Your mouth, God's ear, all that. I'll keep you posted! It would be SO COOL.

  3. Good Neighbor AnneJanuary 30, 2013 at 7:36 AM

    Wow. After seeing his picture we are all wondering of Bride Boy ever turned into a groom... hmmm? (And at least one of use appreciates his fondness for the Grateful Dead.)

    1. Hee! Yes, you would love him. He is such a cutie-patootie, he has perfect politics, and he's a runner, just like you. Alas, he is married...and I suspect that his nice spouse, Mister Bride Boy, would like you to keep your hands to yourself, missy!

      Sorry to break your heart. You're not the first girl, BELIEVE ME. :)

  4. Good Neighbor AnneJanuary 30, 2013 at 7:37 AM

    Oops, that was "IF" Bride Boy ever turned into a groom

    1. Mrs. Editor appreciates your attention to detail.