Happy Birthday, Jennifer Davies

In honor of Jennifer Davies's birthday yesterday, I would like to do something I never, ever do. That is, post a list of real names to the internet. These are real people, like Jennifer Davies, who I've known over the years and who I've gotten out of touch with.

This weekend, I thought of Jennifer Davies because I saw a movie with John Candy, and I always think of Jennifer Davies when I see John Candy because I found out that John Candy died when I stayed the night at her house once. Then I thought about her again yesterday because it was her birthday. Funny that you can remember some birthdays even though you've completely lost touch with a person.

I must add that I feel ready to be in touch with Jennifer Davies again. I didn't feel ready last year, when I was still in college and she was probably graduated and working. She and I got to be friends in third grade and stopped being friends somewhere around ninth grade, I think. Not that we ever really stopped being friends, but we stopped spending time together. We were always singled out for our good writing. I think that landing a job as an editor makes me respectable enough, and before announcing to the internet that I'd like to get back in touch with her, I checked amazon.com to make sure that she hasn't written any books (she hasn't---unless she wrote Tales Old Gypsies (Country Tales), which I highly doubt; if anything, she would have written "Tales of Old Intergalactic Space Gypsies"). So that means that we should be pretty much equal, I hope. Jennifer Davies, wherever you are, and even if you are sitting on the unpublished manuscript "Tales of Old Intergalactic Space Gypsies," I'd love to get back in touch.

Now on to the rest of you:

Benjamin Packer, an old IS coworker, to whom I always said "I need to maintain a professional working relationship with you" but never did.

Krystie/Krystal Cobel, an old IS coworker, who I may have called a slut in jest one too many times, and whose ward member claimed, "She had a tomb-raider body."

Ashley Wright, my first ever best friend, whom I met one day when I was playing at a neighbor's home without permission.

Secily Saunders, the prudiest freshman friend I ever had, who once accidentally exclaimed, "I'm trying to avoid the pee-ness" when expressing her need to use the bathroom immediately.

Justin Giallonardo, whose Amazon wish list I thought I found until I realized that he never would have requested any of the items that were on the list I found.