I have an absolutely wonderful college friend named Donnella. When she visits, she smiles, she hums about and cooks magnificent healthy food, she wonders about deep and meaningful things and practices pilates on my living room floor. She listens in that I see inside your soul intense way that makes you feel like saying generous hopeful things like "I’m sure we’ll eventually find peace in the Middle East."
But at times like this when I haven’t seen her in awhile and the darkside appears to so obviously be winning, I’m hard pressed to find my inner Donnella. Since I neither practice pilates nor make magnificent nonfat veggie burritos, I’m left with the consolation of my imaginary friend.
Funny Girl isn’t deep or meaningful or particularly sensitive, but what she offers ain’t bad:
- An ability to focus on pretty pink shoes,
- A willingness to sit and talk over wine about haircuts, boyfriends, husbands, and listen intently to how hard it is to find a dress for a 20 year high school reunion,
- An overweaning fascination with which earrings likely accentuate the length of one’s neck,
- A buddy with whom to watch exercise videos and guess the ages & weights of participants,
- A clever conversationalist with whom one can discuss books that are well written and *not* currently on the Oprah Book List.
Most of all, she’s someone with whom one can be onesself, spiritually unevolved, spitting mad, or laughing uproariously at the absurdity of the world.
You can borrow her if you like.