Bonus: Chapter Two AND Thought-Provoking Thursday

The spring of '91: I'm set to graduate high-school and attend a good school on scholarship. I had been dating Jeremy (ex-husband) since the start of my senior year. My parents must have been getting a little antsy wondering what else they could do to sabotage my life, considering I would be moving out in mere months. We were coming off of the winter drama that involved my 15-year-old pregnant sister (who went on to prove all the statistics wrong,) and you'd think that would be enough. But no. A tornado wreaks havoc on Smallville, demolishing the town and ending the school year a month early. You might even think that would be enough. Nope. Days before my graduation, my mother decided to bestow the ultimate motherly-love secret upon me that included a red-headed janitor and marital infidelity. Again...enough? Again, no. It all ended in a big, ugly mess on my graduation night. Bingo! Mission accomplished. So..I moved with Mom to the shitty-ass apartments on the bad sid of town, forewent my scholarship because my parents refused to speak long enough to file their taxes to allow me financial aid to cover the other $4000 of tuition, and the fun begins.

Jill and I, all grown up of course, rekindled the friendship of old and set out to conquer the world. Ok..maybe just a few square miles of Tulsa, but we had dreams, dammit. The summer was actually quite hazy, in more sense than one, but it does finally introduce "B" (or Brook, for those of you who are interested enough to follow our little drama.) I went on Jeremy-hiatus at least 15 times that summer. Jill was searching for a way out of the 3 1/2 year-wrong-boyfriend relationship. We were young and attractive and stupid. We wore skirts as short as they made. We laid out by the pool all day and smoked and drank all night. We worked, I believe, 2 days that summer at a telemarketing firm. We never had money, but always had beer, cigarettes, and gas. We were tan and thin. Mostly, we were happy. There are lots of great details, like the time we went to a party and left the beer in the trunk of Jill's parents car, only to lock the keys in the car. We chose not to drive the 6 miles to get new keys. We just had the guy with the cast bust the window. Got the beer. That's what counted. There are stories of Raising Arizona and mayflies and Cisco-induced vomiting. (I'll save all that for the book. Hope you're on that, Annie.) Most importantly, we found independence that summer. And Jill found Brook. I would love to lay before you some wonderful, whirlwind/fairytale romance that brought about the union, but I was really too high to remember most of it. I mostly remember that they were perfect for each other and we had a blast. There were countless nights of quarters and Asshole (Brook always won, the motherfucker,) and the first 2 of only 3 alcohol-related meetings with the toilet for me Again, Brook always won, the motherfucker.(In his defense: he held my hair both times.) When I think back, it seems like there was a party every night. I don't know if it really happened that way or only felt that way. I just know that it was an induction into real life and we wanted to make the most of it. And we did. In the end, this chapter gave us all someone to lean on, someone to count on. We had each other.

Time went on and we all changed. I married Jeremy and had 2 babies. Jill married Brook and had 2 of her own. Sometimes I hated Brook, sometimes Brook hated me. There were months on end, for the next few years ,that Jill and I would lose touch, only to pick up right where we left off. We had babies and fought with husbands. We told secrets and laughed and cried. In the end, we both divorced. I hate laying blame in a divorce, mine or anyone's, so I won't lay it on anyone in either. I still love all of them. In actuality, probably equally. I wouldn't trade a minute of any of it.

So there you have it...Chapter Two. Not as exciting as you'd hoped, huh?

Now more important business: Thought-Provoking Thursday!

Low-Carb Beer: beer companies' thoughtful approach to health-consious alcoholism or bullshit marketing ploy?

Oral sex preference: performer or performee?

Quarters: ingenious way to get girls really fucked up or Brook's evil monopoly?