I sent an email to my friend (that has the same name as me) about the blog. She has been out of the loop because she was away on vacation. I can't call her Penelope. There is only one Penelope. I shall call her Chaka. The reason for this--When I first met Chaka, she would use an expression that killed me. When someone says something really weird she says, "Chaka Khan, Chaka Khan" in the same way I Feel For You starts. Example, we would leave a bizarre customer call, "Chaka Khan, Chaka Khan!" If Chaka was a cartoon, this is what she would look like:
Chaka knows ALL the stories. She is from N.C. (and as white as a loaf of Wonder Bread). I can hear her voicing rising saying, "oh girl, no he didn't!" She patiently listened as I recounted every creepy detail. She's also had hours of enjoyment laughing at me with her partner (no, she's not gay--she's dated the same guy for like 15 years and "boyfriend" sounds stoopid). They laugh at my "posse". Pilates, Acupuncture, Hair, Nails, Life Coach, Therapist, Massage Therapist...Chaka, am I forgetting someone? I sound like a freak when I list all that out. Gentle Readers, a (oh yes--forgot esthetician) girl needs to take care of YOU in times of tragedy.
Work beckons.
Penelope Out
I must add that I spoke to Chaka today. She took my Wonder Bread comment seriously. I didn't mean pale. I meant wholesome-WONDER BREAD™. Don't make me pull out my trademark again. She was going to post that I was more pale. Anyone that knows Penelope knows I am "critically caucasian", yet I know most of the words to key Public Enemy, NWA and Snoop songs. I got a pocket full of rubbers and my home boys do too...
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