Happy Birthday, Denise!

When I was in sixth grade, there was a new girl in school -- her name was Denise and, over time, we became best friends (that's BFF to the younguns). I can remember the day we actually bonded -- we both had been sick so we'd been excused from recess -- we had to go sit in the lunchroom (why not the library, I'm now wondering?) and we had a long and deep discussion about the Osmond Brothers.

Yeah, it was that long ago.

From that point on, we were inseparable. We went through crushes on Alice Cooper -- we even found out his mother's phone number and talked to her. She was not amused. Then, when we were 16, we met Kiss before anyone had seen them without their make-up -- we tracked them to the top floor of the only hotel with a top floor in Macon, Georgia. And, oh, yeah, we met Jim Dandy from Black Oak Arkansas -- we were supposedly doing an article for the school newspaper but the paper never did get off the ground.

We used to come home from school and both of us would watch Match Game at our respective houses -- then we'd call each other and talk about it. If anybody has watched this 70s show on the Game Show Network, you will understand why we had to discuss it. For its time, the show was actually quite vulgar. We loved it.

Ah, those were the days!

Over the years, our relationship waxed and waned -- there were times, after I'd met my husband and after Denise moved to Indiana, where we didn't get to see each other or talk very often -- this was before the days of e-mail and Facebook. Otherwise known as the dark ages, kiddies. But, whenever we'd reconnect, we'd take up where we left off. We still do that today.

Today is Denise's 50th birthday -- she won't mind me saying that because if there's anybody who doesn't give a rat's ass and doesn't mind telling you she doesn't, it's Denise. I just finished talking to her and we had, as always, a good laugh. She'll call me on Monday, which is my 50th birthday and we'll laugh some more.

We haven't seen each other in awhile but I hope we can soon. When we do, our husbands will just sit there and look at us like we're crazy.

Because we are.

Inside, we're still those silly teenage girls, even if our bodies are giving us the finger every day.

Love ya', girlfriend! Happy Birthday!!