Tom, what kind of fruit do you like?

I feel like I should write something interesting but there isn't too much going on these days. Unless you want to hear about all of the books I've been reading lately. (Most likely not). Other than that I have been catching up with various important people in my life. Everyone who knows me knows that I suck at communication unless people are with in a pretty short range of my actual person. About the only person I do keep up with who lives far away is Tom, and that is just because the poor boy has been my best friend for so many years that there has to be some sort of compensation. I could send him a fruit basket I suppose but that requires money and a knowledge of what kind of fruit he likes... which I don't have either of. In fact I am such a crummy friend that I had to steal this picture of him. (I have pictures but most of them are from the days before I owned a digital camera. I wasn't kidding when I said we have been friends for a long time.) Since Tom is one of the six people I know who reads this blog it only seemed fair to put him on it. :) I mean really you have seen pretty much my entire family line-up, and a good deal of Joey's family and friends. So, blogger land meet Tom aka Tombo...Tom meet my invisible friends. Now shake invisible hands and play nice. Wasn't that exciting? The back story behind Tom starts with an unusual meeting. Tom and I met in the High Five movie theater when I was about 13 or 14. He was friends with my sister Cora (she's a year older than I am) and I believe he had a trench coat and a pony tail at the time. I was still living in Pagosa but we ended up chatting on instant messenger for a year or so until I moved to Durango to live with my dad. I pretty much stole his friendship from my sister, Oops. In the following years I spent a lot of time ditching school and hanging out at his apartment up on the hill. Our friendship is based around long walks, ice cream cones from DQ, and an ability to tell each other pretty much everything. It's very cool. If you don't have a friend like this I recommend you get one. You could scout out local theaters but I think that only works in small towns when you have a blond sister towing you around. It could be that I just got lucky. Maybe I should send a fruit basket to Cora? I have a vague idea of what she likes, or at least I know the ones she is allergic to. So, in conclusion to this rambling-no-point-blog, a message to Tom (which everyone else gets to read with invisible eyes in their invisible heads): Thanks for being my friend. Thanks for always listening to me ramble even when you know I am being stupid. Thanks for not telling me I'm being stupid. (You must have a lot of those moments stocked up). Thanks for accepting me no matter what, and no matter how many bad things you know about me. Now write me my letter damn it. You are a lousy pen pal! :) (That is said with love of course and if I get one in the mail in the next 24 hours, I'm very sorry)