Jachin got out of the shower yesterday morning and said this:

“My hair smells like dad’s deodorant… which smells like sweaty diapers.”

To which my mind stumbled all over itself trying to figure out several things.

1) Why do I spend so much money on name brand deodorant when it smells like sweaty diapers?

2) Why, when I change 99% of diapers in this house, have I not had an occasion to smell a “sweaty” one?

and perhaps most confounding

3) Exactly what the crap did Jachin use to wash his hair?

Ok, so I’m starting to think that it’s me. Am I a little smelly? Do I consistently have something in my teeth? Are my jokes annoying? (I know the answer to that last question…)

Why is it that all of my best friends are moving far away from me??

It’s now been over a year since Diana moved back to the east coast. And if you ask her, she will tell you that her life has never been better since our separation. Diana is the person that I’d known the longest here in Utah. I met her while I was pregnant with Jachin.That means that I’ve known her for about 11 years or so.

The next oldest friend I have out here is Heidi. We used to be neighbors. I’ve known her for about 8 or 9 years. And guess what? She’s moving to Portland, Oregon today. Portland is also on a coast, though it’s the west coast. It’s like both of them went as far away as they could before going, “Crap, an ocean… I guess we can’t get any further away from Suz without actually living under water”.

Heidi’s family is moving because her husband took a job opportunity in Portland. He is what I used to call a financial planner , but he’s actually more than that. Heidi calls him a wealth manager. All I know is that by moving to Portland, he will basically be over all the money in the state of Oregon. Read: they will be lots richer.  She told me about the house on the lake that they will be renting. She said it’s a good house for entertaining. Now, I know all about entertaining. I entertain my neighbors by weeding my yard while wearing my reindeer-print pajama pants and screaming at my kids at the top of my lungs. (It’s quite entertaining… ask them.) Heidi is in a whole different sphere of entertaining, though. Her entertaining includes things like shmoozing and catered dinners and people wearing pants with high-heels. In truth, she is way too classy to be my friend. I’m scared she’ll figure this out one day. Okay, okay, I’m actually pretty sure she already knows. I’ve shown up a few times to these entertaining deals in my Target clothes and flip-flops, laughing like a drunk mule at my own jokes, scarfing down hors d’oeuvres like I’m scared someone else will have some. And she’s still been my friend the next day. (Though she did stop inviting me to so many things where other people would be.)

(Here we are golfing a couple of years ago… trust me, I am embarrassing to golf with, but she did it anyway.)

For our last outing  before her move, we went to have pedicures. We both got Glitter Toes. (It was my first time.) Mine are done in Celery, and hers are in Vegas Pink. We chatted about things, mostly the move. She was still freaking out a little because the whole thing was happening so fast. I was freaking out a little because there goes another of my friends. And while I have lots of “friends” as far as people I know and talk to (if you ask Facebook ,I have over a 150 friends!) I am dwindling on “friends” that are actually in physical proximity. Friends that I do more than just check the “Like” button for their comments. Friends that I know and trust. That I’m comfortable with. That I can be ugly in front of. That know that I’m not actually all that funny in person… and who are okay with that.

So I’m holding interviews. Wanna be my friend? What if I mentioned that there would be a salary involved?

I miss you, Diana.

And I’ll miss you, too, Heidi.

(inquire for applications)

Deacon doesn’t like shirts lately. In fact, sometimes he hates them.