I’m not one to protest. Or rally. Or pay much attention to those that do. But when there is something that just seems unfair, unholy and deeply saddening, I’ll take a stand. I’ll spread my message. This gal doesn’t sit idly by and let things that matter to her, personally, pass her by. No. I took my stand. I spread my message. Propaganda was at work. And I gathered supporters.
Unfortunately, it did not pay off. If chaining myself to a tree or sitting in front of a bulldozer would work, I’d do it. Maybe sitting in front of a Ford Escape might stall the inevitable but it’s out of my hands. *tear*
That’s right. I’m still anti-Michigan. As the thought of my pals moving there sends me into a deep depression. Please tell me you did not expect something serious. If you did, I’m sorry to disappoint. But this is personal. Very, very personal.
I named myself President of the “Michigan Is Lame – No One Wants To Move There” Foundation. I call it MILNOWTMT (pronounced mill-now-mit) for short. I made stickers to show my disdain towards this situation… this situation of “moving”. Others donned my homemade stickers too. We were rallying alright.
But this weekend, the move is complete. Thurmeo’s already up north and my Mel is following his tire tracks on Sunday. I’ll probably bug her all damn day with text messages professing my love for her florentine artichoke dip. Or how many tissues I’ve used to mop up my crocodile tears. Or interesting facts about the mitten-shaped state.
I’m sad. I think I have been slightly depressed. We’re pretty good buddies. She laughs at all my lame jokes. (I love that about her.) But I also know that nothing will change between us. Our hugs may get a little tighter the next time we see one another but other than that, nil. I happen to love to be squeezed. Bring it.
Melanie and Ryan,
I love you both. You guys have been in my life for quite some time. And though I don’t want you to go [because I’m extremely selfish and will miss hearing the original “boos”] [and that kitchen], I wish you guys the best of luck in the land of lakes. I can’t wait until the next time I hear a voice that says “Brooke, you look beautiful tonight.” only so I can reply “It still doesn’t count, Ryan.” OK. Enough of that. I’ll start knitting you a hat.
Love and Hugs,