I don’t want a new project. I just want someone to love, that will love me back.-Bette
I first met Bette when we worked together at the SSW. She worked for a project, I was the business manager for faculty and staff. If you needed something, you came to me. She did. For staplers, tape, paper. Reimbursement and refund questions. Questions about project expenses. We talked and laughed easily. She was so damn funny without meaning to be. She just was. We tried to hook up. Find times to hang out. But my life was busy with a husband and kids. Finally, finally we were able to meet and hang out to watch a movie. It was called “Our Idiot Brother”. We both have a thing for Paul Rudd, and comedy in general, so it wasn’t surprising that our first excursion would be a comedy movie. Turns out it wasn’t that great, but we got to stare at Paul for a few hours. That was a bonus. I don’t know what it is about a funny man that sets my soul afire. Damn! I love it, if you can make me laugh.
Back to Bette. Our friendship grew. We learned things about each other. Through our talks, our texts, our emails. We hung out more. Laughed more. Cried more. I see her, this vibrant, blonde haired, blue eyed woman. This goddess that begs to be loved. She’s a magnet. She draws people to her. She gives herself easily. She’s so funny. Whenever we are together we recite dialogue from Anchorman. People look at us like we’re stupid. We don’t give a shit, really. We’re just two blonde girls having fun.
She has introduced me to some wonderful people. I now get to spend one night a month making a fantastic dish to pass for our monthly potlucks. We pick a theme, and from that theme we pick something awesome to cook. I love to cook, she doesn’t. I told her not to worry, I’m going to hook her up with some decent kitchen utensils. And then I’m going to teach her how to cook anything and everything! I tried to cook quiche at her place once. She doesn’t even have a decent measuring spoon or cup. Not saying I use them much. But the first time I use a recipe, I need to measure everything out! After that I put my own spin on things.
Bette is a beautiful woman. She’s one of my favorites to be with. I see her and I just want to hug her. Love her. Make her better. She is everything. She needs to love, to nurture, to be reassured that she is okay. Which she is. She’s perfect in her imperfection. She makes me better by being my friend. I make her better by being her friend and telling her she is loved.
I love that she calls me in the middle of the night just to laugh about something. I love that she has a filthy potty mouth. I love that she laughs uproariously at little dogs in pink sweaters that are walking with their owners down Main Street in Ann Arbor. I love the fact that I can tell her anything and it doesn’t go anywhere but to her ears and heart. I love the fact that she can tell me anything and it stays with me. Well, maybe it goes to Roger Darling, but that’s it. Roger loves her too. He has barely hung out with her, but when he has, he’s told me how much he enjoys her company. All of her. Roger Darling loves a good, strong willed, funny woman. And she most definitely is.
I hope someone sweeps her off her feet. I hope that she finds the love she needs. I hope, I hope, I hope. Not just for her, but for them. Because whoever gets lucky enough to love her, they will love her forever! I know I will. She is my sister and my friend. Forever.