If you ever think you got it wrong, I’m right where you left me

I couldn’t watch that debate last night.

I mean, you’ve got smarmy Garbage Pail Kid on one side, Vladimir Futon.

On the other, America’s Dad. Which, you can tell the so-called right wouldn’t know a functional fatherly relationship if they saw one, so they don’t know how to handle it.

From the beginning, I could see Walz was a touch unsure and uncomfortable. And his answer to the first question — which, let’s face it, any debate coach will tell you to get your message out there, not the answer — didn’t really dazzle me.

Anyway, at the first sign of hating the bought-and-paid-for candidate less, I switched to the RHONY season premiere and was not disappointed.

That said, I was thrilled to see Norah O’Donnell and Margaret Brennan as moderators. They were my mom’s favorite journalists. She would have enjoyed seeing them together in such powerful seats.

I busied myself, too, catching up with a friend from my Kauffman’s days. I always thought she was magical. And after 30 years, I finally used those words. Because she still is.

She lost her best gray kitty friend this week. And her mom, back when we knew each other.

I of course lost my best gray kitty and my mom this year.

And I am so thankful to my beloved friend — or as I told her, she was a glittering, golden, Stevie Nicks-esque enigma who inspired awe — for reaching out to me first, to offer comfort.

I hope I was able to do the same.

We knew each other when she was 30 and I was 23. That just hit me.

As did this:

“She’s still 23
Inside her fantasy
And you’re sitting in front of me
At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want< Cross-legged in the dim light Everything was just right I, I could feel the mascara run You told me that you met someone Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on."

I’ll just be over here with dust collecting on my pinned-up hair, if anyone is looking for me.

Actually after I posted this, I remembered we did meet up again in Baltimore about 15 years ago.

She called me to meet. Then she was over an hour late but she was charming and intoxicating and introduced me to the most amazing beer I ever tasted.

It probably wasn’t all that amazing. But I still remember its name and how it felt on my lips.

Anyway, just funny how all the memories from 23 are the ones that came rushing back first.

The tarot cards keep telling me I’m about to be surrounded by admirers, and that half of them are going to be longtime ones.

Mom’s prediction would be that one from the 2018-’19 era would be first in line. So, maybe not first, but there’s still time for that prediction to come true yet.

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