A Shout Out to M.'s Mom

The other day when I posted the answers to Jason's interview questions I wrote this response to the question about the fastest I've ever gone in a car:

"I’m not sure. I was afraid to open my eyes and look. I was seventeen years old and my friend M. was driving us across a rickety bridge in her boyfriend’s Trans Am. Let’s just say I was constipated for about a week because my butt was puckered so tightly."

You met M. back in September when I wrote about our elementary school reunion. She's the one on the right. Her mother always seemed to know what we were up to when we were kids. It was hard to pull anything over on her. Apparently, it still is. You see, I didn't realize that she reads this blog regularly, and the night I published the interview post she called M. up and asked if it was HER that was with me in that car and if we were going over the ---- Bridge. It was. And we were. And just like that, I had ratted out my buddy. Even though I hadn't print her name, and I left out the names of the boyfriend and the bridge. It didn't matter. After all these years, her mama still has that super sonic mischief detecting radar that we tried to fly under during our teenaged years. It hasn't weakened one bit.

I hear they had a good laugh about the whole thing, and how you really don't want to know all the things your kids did behind your back when they were young. What a relief!

And it's fun to know M.'s mom is stopping by here on a regular basis. Howdy, M.'s mom! I'll try not to reveal any more old memories that might give you a heart attack. Besides, we didn't pull much over on you all those years ago. Well, there WAS that trip to the college town about an hour away from home on a Friday night......

And Now I Know

The last few weeks have been interesting because I've made so many reconnections with folks from my childhood. It's been great, but a couple of times I've wondered if this is what it feels like when you're dying of some disease and you try to make up for lost time. I wrote recently about our elementary school reunion, which was a hoot. And before that I wrote about my old school buddy Ramona, who I haven't seen since our 8th grade graduation. Many times over the last thirty (gulp) years, I've wondered where she was and what she was up to. Well, my friend Madd Maxx..remember him? He's the one who laughs like this.....He went home to Louisiana after our reunion in, as Hubby's grandma used to say, a swivet, hell bent on finding Ramona for me. He is some kind of genealogy buff/super sleuth who has a real knack for finding folks, and earlier this week blessed me with a location and phone number for Ramona. Last night, I took a shower, grabbed a tall glass of iced tea and dialed her number. And she was home. And we talked...and talked..and talked. For 69 minutes.

Now, she was kind enough not to squeal because I wrote about her AND posted an old picture of her on the web without her knowing, so I won't go into detail about our conversation last night. In fact, I'm only giving you this update because some of you have asked me several times since that original post if I've had any luck finding her. I will tell you though that it was a great conversation. Her laugh is still as infectious as ever, and I could have talked all night. She is a few hundred miles away from me and doing very, well and I hope one day soon when she comes home to see her mother we can hook up for that piece of pie, some face to face girl talk and a big hug. We have so much to talk about.

If you're reading this Ramona, thanks for the chat last night and for not passing out when you saw yourself on the World Wide Web. It was so good to connect with you again. Oh, and thanks Madd Maxx for your detective work.