The Impending French Invasion
Rockin’ good news!
Someone’s coming home for a visit, and I’m dancing an Irish jig.
She’s baaaack…
I got an e-mail from one of my social media accounts. “You have a message!” Oh boy. Stacy from Anaheim wants me to click on a link so she can show me her plastic boobs. Or Bob from Minnesota has an herbal supplement that makes me “harder, stronger, etc…” Can’t wait. I went to the site. Lo and behold, it was a message from someone I actually know.
Mizelle is coming home!
“Will be in town between 9th-18th. Figure out when your weekend is and save me some time, eh?”
Can do. I’m already composing the letter to the boss. “Friend from France is visiting; please please please no extra work days next week!?” Or something like that.
Yesterday was baby Lily’s second birthday. I saw pictures on Mizelle’s website. The kid was painting blood effects on a trash can in what looked like a slaughterhouse. I always liked that kid…
It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since I’ve seen Mizelle. I remember going through withdrawals when I missed a week without movie/buffet night. Nights of liquor and Papa Murphy’s in my room during massive rainstorms. (The Frenchman’s passport had to be replaced after their walk home.) I miss the ‘I can tell you anything’ feeling I get when life has me by the cojones and I need a sympathetic ear. Grand Buffet is long gone, but Abhiruchi is still out in Beavertown, and Flying Pie still has the heaviest pizza in the universe. We will find something to do.
I wonder how she’s doing? Most of the pictures on her websites are of her kid, or places they have visited. I’m gonna have to tease her a bit. (Moi?) The first thing that comes to mind is her adapting to the French lifestyle. She’s always been good friends with a razor, so I’m wondering: Has she adopted the European look? Will I meet a natural blonde that is walking on two pipe-cleaners, smuggling a squirrel under each arm?
I really doubt it, but I’m going to work it into the conversation somehow.
As to the rest of the convo, we have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll hear of her travels, and more about the haunted French countryside she’s been taming. I’ll regale her with tidbits (aka full gory detail) of my dating misadventures. We will feast.
At one point we were apart for five years. It took days to catch up. I have three days to catch up on one year. Sounds about right.
To say I’m stoked would be an understatement. Here’s a huge welcome home to my favorite French family!
Dingleberry Gazette 
MIZELLE said,
April 3, 2010 at 10:57 pm
wow, i am flattened and flattered. just to clarify things, that was not a trashcan the little french bean was painting, it was my leg. her work is very dali meets texas chainsaw massacre, no?
stalking you soon,
mizelle mixalot