Thank GOD She Didn't Tell Stories.

There are some friends you can go for years without seeing, and then pick right back up with again, like no time has passed.  As if it were just yesterday you watched that friend get a haircut on a Charleston porch, under the influence of mild hallucinogens.

Mary Thomas is one of those friends.

She and her husband Mat are in town for a geography conference, where I imagine them poring over maps, venomously debating whether Istanbul should be called Constantinople, and exactly where the Mason Dixon line really is.  They joined us for brunch during their break today, and we had a great time expounding on where we are in our lives now, where we are going (they have lots of fantastic baby advice,  though I never imagined I'd be A) needing it or B) Getting it from Mary), and- surprisingly- NOT sharing "remember when" stories.

Mary was one of my beloved college roommates, and a dear friend to me throughout many phases of my life, both during and after college.  She's seen the worst of the worst, the best of the best, and probably has photos of both.   She was certainly there for both, in the best possible ways.

Some highlights from our 23-ish years of friendship include:

*  The time Mary woke up to find ________  and _________on the green sofa bed, wearing ________.

*  The time Rachel got married and Mary ________ too much _______ and ended up in ____________.

*  The time Tasha came over and there were haircuts and then we _________ and went to __________ where we _________________________________________________________________________.


OK, the things that immediately come to mind are not completely appropriate for sharing.  Not that they're so racy (but I'd be lying if I said none were racy), but a lot of them are personal, more confidential.  They aren't tawdry, but private.  Whether intentional or not, we have found ourselves with each other in some very trying times--and some that are really tough to remember because we were having too much fun.  A LOT of fun.  Tasha was there, too, so ask her what she remembers.

It's been about 5 years since Mary and I last saw each other, and though we have no idea how long it'll be before we see each other again, Dean and I walked Mary and Mat to the corner today and put them in a cab without overdoing the hugging, without promising to keep in better touch, without planning future visits.

Because we know we're just an email away.

And we know we have a TON of dirt on each other.  So we'll be staying on each others' good sides.

Love you, Mary!