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Jennifer E. Thomas
j3nny3lf
...... .:::.:.:


Waterfalls
It's almost like there are these periods where our relationship is smooth and steady, and then there are times when it's like standing on the edge of this gorgeous, wonderful waterfall and just letting yourself drop, knowing that there's a safe pool of water ready to catch you at bottom. You take the plunge and you're in wayyyy over your head, but oh man, it's exhilarating, it's breathtaking, it's just incredible and you feel better than you ever have before and the water is cool and refreshing and exactly what you needed.

Sam is my waterfall.

- LJ entry from 8/2005





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June 2017
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Jennifer E. Thomas [userpic]
Remember when...?

Ganked from megleigh

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your lj and see what your friends come up with.

Tags:
Borderline symptom of the day: amusedamused
Comments

Wow, I'm not sure which memory I should put down here (more for legal reasons than either of us being embarrassed about it, you know).

I still think the most fun we had was when we talked those two guys at the grocery store into buying all our stuff, taking it home for us and then *cooking* for us - all because we kept flirting with them. Who knew men could be so darned gullible?

Remember when we found out that the fifth grade bully was terrified of hamsters? I brought my pet Hamster, Oogie to school the next day, and we put it down the kid's pants. He peed himself from fright, and looked so ridiculous that his reign of terror ended then and there and all the kids gave US their lunch money by way of reward!

Remember back in '02, when we met in Newark and got mugged? Poor bastard, I still don't hink he ever figured out where you hid that axe. Or why I was carrying the iron plated turkey baster, for that matter...

Remember when we robbed that bank together? That was cool.

I was eight. I think you were 13. Can't remember, really. But it doesn't really matter. You used to take me to the park when Mom was sick, and you'd push me on the merry-go-round. It was the greatest feeling in the world, watching the sky swirl around, taking all the misery away. You always told me that Mom didn't really understand what she was doing, that it was the sickness. But I still don't sleep well. Why did you let her hurt me like that? Her, I can forgive. After all, you told me she was sick. I think maybe she wasn't the only one.

You know what therapy bills are like these days?

Oh my God - remember that time we kidnapped Alec Baldwin and made him snog an emu in the closet while we sang sea shanties? Man, those were the muthafuckin' DAYS.

I'll bet you have forgotten, but I haven't. Remember when my daughter and I had just run away from home? When we needed a place to stay that wasn't easy to find? I remember. I remember you pulling out your credit card and calling a motel for us. I remember you taking us there so the car wouldn't be seen from the street.

I remember.

That weekend in So. Cal? We hijacked Paris Hilton's car while the valet's back was turned, and then went joy riding up Highway 1 all weekend. Thank ghods you found that Visa above the visor, or we'd have not made it past the first tank of gas. I still can't remember just how many biker dives we stopped in to lose pool tournaments. Did you ever get the tattoo removed, like you said you should?

That time when you posted a meme in your journal that wasn't recycled? (What was it about? I forgot.)

You, me, the tin of orange paint, the fire extinguisher and the elevator. How could I forget?