This one's for the girls!

Alright already! So poetry isn't one of my strengths! Lets just pretend it wasn't written.

I'm working on a project (Ooooo that does make it sound important!) that takes a lot more research than I anticipated. Not that I'm complaining! Its actually been a blast going through a ton of teenage stuff and call it research. Especially when one of my two guy friends stop by and see me surrounded by a sea of magazine pictures, posters and diaries. Worst yet is that I am not the perfect hostess my mother taught me to be. Wanna drink? Something to eat? Me? Glasses are in the same place as they've always been, wine, beer is in the 'fridge and anything that doesn't have green fuzzy stuff growing on it is all your's. And I've taken a vow of chastity. Knock yourself out. Funnier still is that they get sort of jealous of my research subject.

My guys always play the age card first,    "You know, Kimmie the guy's, like, in his 70s or something."

"No, he's 56," I counter, too preoccupied to point out that my research subject is younger than both of them.

"He's gay."

"Don't think so. He's got six kids," as I scribble notes from an ancient 'Tiger Beat'.

Finally, "Why are you doing this, Kim? What, you think he's going to see this and give a shit?"

I lift my head and look them dead in the eye, " Know what? As much as I would love him to see this, it doesn't really matter. This isn't about him. Its a sort of tribute to life long friendships. Something I really don't think you understand. Now, go get your beer and watch 'Sons of Anarchy'. I'll join you in a little while," and turn my attention to the more important task at hand.

The amusing thing about this debate I have with these two men is always about this particular guy I'm writing about. They never pay attention to the millions of photos of me and my girls when we were teenagers, all caught up in makeup, clothes, hair, and teen idols. Its my life friendship with these women that are the inspirations for this project.

So let the boys clean out the questionable contents of my refrigerator, drink a few beers and yell at Jax for getting himself in yet another predicament. I'm too busy looking at pictures of the refined sophisticate, the out-of-this-world dreamer and the one who always laughed so hard, her mascara would be half way down her cheeks. They're my past and its important for me to immortalize them (and me) the only way I know how.

And now, back to my research.