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(While I’m on a roll …) You befriended me after one short phone conversation, taking me under your wing and showing me your hometown — pubs, parks, diners and clubs. You’re incredibly open, friendly and funny, and I wish we lived closer.
(Yet another redhead) Creative little fireball. I hope you still take pictures of your kids every day and that you find a way to make a living off of your amazing art and crafts. I really miss working with you.
(I’m thinking about redheads today.) You were tall, skinny, freckled and had the cutest blue eyes. I was always hopeful that you’d break away from the redneck jock crowd, but in the end, they and their Steve-Miller cranking, Busch beer-drinking ways won.
Sensitive, fiery-haired product of what I assume were hippie parents (you were named after the Beatles song). We had many deep chats over steaming mugs of coffee in Jen’s sunny kitchen.
Sweetest of all my friends’ moms. I would show up early to sit at your kitchen table and talk about ghosts, spirituality and all kinds of things that were not discussed at my house.
My mouth was a ragged, bloody mess. You flashed an evil smile at me when I came to and told me to go wait by your fish tank. I spit my blood into it.
I was slapping pickles on a burger when you said, “She’s cute, let’s make her a carhop!” You had a particularly creepy way of staring at the girls as they walked down the lot.
Lispy, finger-talking, OCD editor. You wanted to be friends with all of us, but I found it really hard to party with you after you just went bananas on my ass.
Vegetarian who ate more junk food than anyone I’ve ever met. It was a lesson in tolerance to stare at your cat posters and smell your Dorito breath for an entire school year.
You propped me up when I needed it, knocked me down when it was warranted. You saw my worth and potential at a time when I was feeling like I’d never get ahead.
