My Best Friend

-

I still felt a bit of "gloom and doom" over my head after I left school. In my heart I knew that the sun was shining, it was a wonderful afternoon, and as I crossed the bridge over the Hudson I felt guilty for feeling so morose.

I worked hard on turning it around, after all, I was going to visit Lois and catch a movie.

There is nothing like laughter and a feel good movie to make me smile and forget my misery. We saw the French movie My Best Friend at Upstate, and it was delightful. Story: antique dealer (and do I know a few of those being an ephemera dealer myself) realizes he is despised by all. A bet is made that he has no friends, and the next hour and a half consists of his journey trying to find a friend, and learn what makes a person desirable as a friend. He gets his lessons from a gregarious taxi driver, and what happens I won't divulge, but there are poignant scenes as well as lots of double edged humor.

The end is delightful, hopeful, and warmed me all over almost just as much as Chris's margaritas at Sobroso.

After the movie I realized how blessed I am with friends, and felt sad for all those who lack the love of true friends; friends who would do anything, anytime for you.

Photo is compressed and blurry, but is a pic of myself and one of my best friends, Bardet taken through a screen in her kitchen window by Larry. I have so many friends, and I love you all, and thanks from the bottom of my heart. Patti

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

La Cucina

-
Image
Tonight my house had the aroma of olive oil, garlic, tomatoes and candles. Keith Jarret was playing in the background, and I had just opened a nice bottle of reasonable red wine. (Osborne Solaz, 2004 Temranillo/Cab- 7.00) I needed it for the sauce, so why not have some while cooking! I took good care of myself all weekend, and felt like cooking for the first time in what seems forever. I am an excellent cook. A collage cook one might say, or better yet, a bricollage cook. I take what is in the house and make a dinner out of it. I think about flavor, texture, color and variety. Most of the time I would rather put this creative energy into visual arts, but on occasion I will push my fine art aside, and the art of the evening is cooking. Candles, music, wine, and a lovely table. I must think more like Monet, and not only make the meal art, but somehow make it my visual art too. The best I could do was a photo of the beginning of the sauce. It looks rather bizarre if you ask me,...
Read more

I Don't Want to Get Any Older - I Want to Stay Just the Way I Am

-
Image
Such words of wisdom in the kitchen between Larry and Alanna yesterday. "I don't want to get any older Yiyi, I don't want to be a mommy, I want to be just the way I am." Funny that a four year old should be thinking of such heavy matter during the Christmas Season. I sat for a few moments, going back decades, digging deep in the vault of my childhood memories, remembering what it was like to be four. whooooossshhhhhhh I am watching our black and white TV, and I flash between visions of the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz and the bogeymen from the March of the Wooden Soldiers. I am looking out the window into the dark inky sky of Christmas eve, believing that if I concentrated hard enough, I could make Santa and his reindeer appear flying between the twinkling stars. (ps I used that concentration when I fished all those years ago with #1 - to get the fish to come to MY lure....) I am lying in bed trying to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. I feel like I am on speed,...
Read more

Sunday Ramble

-
Image
In yoga today my teacher talked about acceptance of life and of self, something which is a challenge to both the young AND the old. I was thinking about that yesterday when I was passed by my new full length antique mirror which leans against the wall in my hallway. I pass it from the shower to the bedroom every morning. Sometimes I stop and look and remember when I had the body of a runner, when there was no inch of pinch, or bulges, or dimples. Now, I look and chuckle, noting the attack of cellulite, the bumps, lumps, scars, spots, and veins, though if I squint my eyes and keep the light off, I can still see the framework of that runner’s body. I chuckle now because I am comfortable about my body. It took 50 years…many wasted with negative thoughts about my self which were so crazy. Part of my acceptance might also be the unconditional love that I have in a man who loves me for who I am and never says a thing that isn’t kind. (sometimes I hate that Larry..because it makes me loo...
Read more