a lazy post

I could post about my surgery post-op visit, but that might take too long to fully explain at this point. I will say that the lovely Thalia was right, the endometriosis was Stage III due to the involvement of the ovaries, particularly the right ovary.

Instead, I will post this, stolen from Dramalish (to whom I owe great thanks because I finally heeded her baked goods advice):

“If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don’t speak often, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME.

It can be anything you want–good or bad–BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you’re finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON’T ACTUALLY remember about you.”

~ by Larisa on December 7, 2005.

3 Responses to “a lazy post”

  1. Mrs. Hope,
    My favorite memory of ours is the time we chased the adorably blond and blue eyed Curtis around the playground on the last day of 2nd grade. We were determined to kiss him before Curtis moved away from our hometown.

    I recall that we planned for weeks (not by internet liked they would now, but good old fashioned note writing). Of course, to be fair we had gone back and forth about who would be able to kiss him first, and you won with a cut-throat rock, paper, scissors game.

    So, there we were… chasing Curtis in our matching Strawberry Shortcake shirts. I caught him first (I was always faster), tackled him and you came in for the kiss! I have never forgotten the look on his face — not sure if it was terror or ecstasy. I laid one on him next.

    Hell, now we would be expelled for sexual harrasment, but it was my/our first kiss!!!

  2. Ah, Mrs. Hope-
    After we became such good friends in elementry school, we decided to adopt a Grandparent in junior high… remember? But the little old lady they gave us hated teenage girls and would cry when we tried to read to her or wheel her around the old folks home.
    So then you convinced me that we should both get boy cuts and wear No Fear T-shirts and baggy pants whenever we went to see her.
    Your male persona was named “Dylan” and mine was “Brandon” (since we were both so in love with the show Beverly Hills 90210).
    Remember how happy that little old lady was to have “fine strapping lads” visit her instead of those “ridiculous girls?” You taught me how to be selfless, and I thank you for that, m’dear- but it took me a LONG time to grow back that hair!

  3. Remember that time that we got really drunk and flashed everyone at the football game?

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