Guzt 63/365

My soul mate for a season. When I got locked out of the house that time, we sat outside swatting mosquitoes all night. Turns out The Rumor Mill generated a doozy out of that one. Miss your face.

Problem Child 62/365

Pharaoh of your own world.
You’re a man, with responsibilities. Yes, we know.
Not only are you busy doing your work,
but you are also busy doing your wife’s work, too,
even though she’s the better student.

Lyndon McGee 61/365

"Most likely, not exactly."
After several months of trying to figure you out,
I asked your friends, “Can you understand him or is it just me?”
They cracked up laughing.
Wasn’t that you’re Liberian;
You’re just weird.

Kim Kasch 60/365

In Mrs. Perks’ second grade class, we huddled together to record in our writing “logs” that we had seen a “moov-e”. Neither of us could figure out how to spell movie. Moov + e = moove? Yes!

Roger Quick 59/365

You were the fastest runner in grade school.
Kiss Tag was invented so we could chase you.
Yours were the first sparkling blue eyes I’d ever seen.
Someone told me you died in high school—drunk driving?

Mrs. Zini 58/365

Taught me diamante poems and sentence diagramming,
Which I loved in equal measure.
Worked your road trip into the curriculum.
My life was falling apart,
But my brain was starting to come together
And words were the glue.

Don K. 57/365

Kelly’s dad.
But I thought it was funny that someone as small as you could be a dad.
You looked like Kenny Loggins
You used to zip up and down the road in your little blue Corvette.

Brett 56/365

The Prince of Organized, The King of Methodical, The Duke of Disciplined. I knew I would like working with you right away. We balance each other and make a great team. Please get out of there soon.

G. Laine 55/365

Harold!? Hoh, dear!
Oh, come on, Furny…!
PRAMS!
And I thought, well that’s scriptural.
Cookie Monster!
No, no, don’t do that to me.
Alright…war!
I’m taking the kids.
VCR.
A-cha-ooooh!
Go now, I must see you again.

Louise 54/365

Exhibited completely inappropriate boundaries in your position, harping quarterly, monthly, weekly about parking, toileting practices and the necessity of undergarments for women. You were scary because you were unpredictable. You are much happier and saner elsewhere now.

Y__ X__ 53/365

“What does your name mean?” I asked,
Expecting to hear something like Graceful Flower or Clever Warrior.
But you said it means something like,
“Maybe the next one will be a boy.”
Shit, really? What the fuck?

Demon-anthy 52/365

You believed every lie SPL 7 told you about us, didn’t you?
You told us in no uncertain terms that this is now a top down system.
Do you have fun emailing in your little corner all alone?

SPL 7 51/365

What pleasure can you possibly take in dismantling what was an amazing program again and again? Why don’t they notice the talent running from you screaming? What are you doing with all that money? Just a question.

MMM 50/365

I can understand you being a free spirit and all, whatever, to each his own.
But, you know, don’t father a child, school her in the ways of pot smoking for preschoolers and skip out. That sucks.

Djimet 49/365

So tall and black and damn handsome in your grande boubou. You’re the picture of West African Everyman. Can’t imagine the life you’ve lived, the danger and fear you’ve known. So glad your family’s with you now.

The Other Joe 48/365

Look like a skinny, hip old man.
Went overseas, came back married with a pregnant wife.
She just wanted a visa?
She got a job at Ikea. You got a beautiful son.
Happy? You don’t look it.

Joe D. 47/365

Our very own Gordon Sumner—same age, same look, so calm and healthy. You walk and bus everywhere. I love your example. How many languages do you speak? English, Arabic, Somali, Spanish, French—and there are more.

TD 46/365

SPL 7’s little yes man, have you no self respect? Stand up. Say no for once. You could be beautiful if you said yes to yourself. Instead you are old, tired and pasty faced and not even thirty-five.

Lucy 45/365

I’d love to see you happy and rested.
You’re working on it, I know.
These are not your best years, I’m guessing.
Hope I know you again when things are better.
Jeez, am I a fair-weather friend?

Marsha 44/365

Beautiful in every way—red hair, stylish clothes, tender heart. I love that you get sick when you travel because you can’t stop eating the food and drinking the water. Tell me a story. I’m all ears.

Michael K 43/365

Dress like a Mormon missionary every day.
Do as little as possible.
Don’t seem to care.
Study Persian, now Turkish you say,
Three out of eight hours a day.
Nice. Why do you still have a job?

James 42/365

Why can’t you see how beautiful you are with those amazing blue eyes, chic hair and clothes? Smart, funny, such a great husband, father, friend. Good you’re not cocky, but wish you could see what we see.

Scott 41/365

Foolishly I challenged you to a rubber band fight.
I threw a small fit about the injustices of being left handed in a right-handed world.
Next day you gave me The Left Hander’s Handbook.
Thanks for listening.

Richard 40/365

How’s your friend Wei?
"Wei? Ni how? Ni how ma. Ha, ha…ha, ha. Xien, xien. Tsai chien."
Love that we can talk about teaching, dance, language, food and God all on any given day. You get me.

Robin (damn you) 39/365

Poor soul with the misfortune to answer the phone when the police called.
I was laughing with some friends when you asked me to follow you into the bathroom.
“Karin, I’m sorry, but your mother has died.”

Wanton Mandela (Call Center President) 38/365

“I got this email from a Sam. Who's Sam?"
“Sam...You know, Souhail.”
“You changed his name and his email account?
Look, if you can say his name, then use it, you fucking ignorant xenophobe [emphasis mine].”

Pat Ch. 37/365

CEO. Mumbled something about Secretary’s Day, then did nothing about it. Worked for you for two years. You gave me nothing but tiny paychecks and mountains of filing in the computer age because you don’t trust computers.

John 36/365

You ate a ham sandwich (your daily portion of meat) on white bread every single day, always remained calm because of your daily workouts. I thought you were crazy for practically being a vegetarian. “Not even chicken?”

Steve H. 35/365

"Job title?"
“Assistant Controller.”
I guffawed, cackled, “Not you. Your job.”
You looked at me with that are-you-still-here look
and I went away feeling so much better because
I left before you said, “Are you still talking?”

Forrest 34/365

Played with my Sally doll in the back dash of your mother’s car.
Forgot it there when you moved.
Never saw my Sally doll again.
I was heart broken.
Mom said we could visit.
We never did.

Amy W. 33/365

Never laughed so hard as I did with you.
Chipped my tooth on a Coke bottle guffawing with you.
Your handwriting was perfect. Your mind was brilliant—genius IQ.
Your dad moved you to Perth. : (

Fanta 32/365

I choked on a slow fat fly in front of your 7th grade Geography class. After I finally managed to spit it out, everyone sat in stunned silence until you said, “Miss, you know flies eat poop?!”

Ousmane W. 31/365

You really didn’t seem married when we started up.
It couldn’t have been more wrong for us to be together.
I was supposed to be turning your Muslim soul to Christ.
You were turning me into a woman.

Kelly K. 30/365

You were short, fast and mean.
Favorite color was Kelly Green.
“Wanna come over and play? You can pick the game.”
“Okay. Trouble?”
“No, Monopoly.”
You became a recluse when you hit and killed someone in college.

Cassie 29/365

“I didn’t see you at Alvin’s funeral. I thought if anybody, you’d be there.”

“His, his what?”

“You didn’t know? Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?”

He was crushed by a giant roll of newspaper print.

Alvin 28/365

My first. You screwed me over and screwed me up so that I’ll never be the same again.
What a shock when you said you went through therapy about it.
Thanks for reconciling with me—a rare gift.

Jason L. 27/365

When we were four, you paused a game of chase to take a leak right there.
"Can I see your thingy?...And touch it?"
And you said, "Yes."
“Oh, it’s spongy.”
Then back to our game of chase.

Derek 26/365

You were such a nice boy. Super polite and on some committee that planned all the dances so you were always the first one to ask me. I had to find clever ways to turn you down.

Miss Barelski 25/365

Dreamy first grade story time.

"Gotta crawl, gotta crawl, gotta crawl
To the Ugly Bug Ball, to the ball, to the ball.
What a happy time we’ll have there
One and all at the Ugly Bug Ball!”

Mrs. Perks 24/365

Second grade, yarn-haired pumpkin, chrysalis, long frizzy hair, colored chalk with which you spelled of “uv” to see if we’d catch it. You remembered me twenty years later at my nephew’s party. You looked just the same.

Chris D. 23/365

Buck teeth, blue eyes, wavy blond hair.
"Batter, batter, batter, suh-wing batter!"
Memorized "whether ‘tis nobler...to suffer the slings and arrows…"
Mr. Albright never asked if the girls wanted to try. Feminism hadn’t hit our small town.

Bryan H 21/365

“Amy, when are Chris&Bryan coming over?” “Chris&Bryan are coming over at 9 o’clock.” “But when’s Bryan coming over?” “Chris and Bryan are coming over at 9 o’clock.” “Yeah, but...” Mt. Dew-guzzling Mormon boy. Married with children, bald.

Chris M. 20/365

“Amy, when are Chris&Bryan coming over?” “Chris&Bryan are coming over at 9 o’clock.” “But when’s Bryan coming over?” “Chris and Bryan are coming over at 9 o’clock.” “Yeah, but...” Mt. Dew-guzzling Mormon boy. Now you’re a cop.

Penny 19/365

Told me to throw out my Tears for Fears album, The Seeds of Love, because the cover was covered with evil images of other religions, but the music spoke to my soul and my soul said, “No!”

Mr. Maloney 18/365

"Clean fingernails? Combed hair?"
Wore mod bell bottoms, skinny turtlenecks.
If we were good, you’d play guitar on Fridays, let us sing.
We must’ve always been good.
Maybe you liked singing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

Michael Deo 17/365

You made kindergarten.

Waltzed in my grandmother’s kitchen.
Played with the tiny wooden black Lab.

Your house had a miniature pretend toaster.
We played house.

So grown up and serious,
While the grown ups talked about nothing.

Willy Watts 16/365

First grade, first love, first kiss.
You smelled so good, like a boy.
So dreamy, that sweet smell never to be found again.
Fourth grade, first couples skate.
Sixth grade, TV kissing down by the frozen creek.

Jeremy B. 15/365

I fell so hard for you. I had it bad. We were the A-Team. You were Ace. I was—the girl. Watched Risky Business, then tried some of it. I was never afraid of anything with you.

Ceasar (SESS-are) Payne 14/365

African American Whitman College guy they held the plane for.
I said, “There you are. Saved you a seat.”
We talked the whole way--through snacks, drinks, dinner and Ghost.
You should have seen our folks’ faces.

Dusty 13/365

Pint-sized gymnast with killer abs. Who, besides you, ever believed you’d marry my best friend after a twenty-year crush? You treat her like a princess, which is nice to see. Hurt her and I’ll whoop your ass.

Amy F. 12/365

Onion Amy.
My b-b-b-very-good friend.
My momma’s chocolate baby.
First drink, first joint.
Would never have made it through HS without you.
Thanks for putting up with my Jesus years.
Was not in your wedding—crushed me.

Randy S. 11/365

Knew you were gay in high school.
Just a fact.
Preacher’s son. Piano prodigy.
At FM yesterday
Was pretty clear
You are out and
Happy.
You probably assumed
I’m still closed minded.
But I’m happy for you.

Mr. Schaub 10x365

How did I not know you were gay? All HS Drama teachers who live with their “friend” in Portland are gay. Missed your memorial service. Did they think I would judge you? I don’t know, but damn.

Paul C. 9/365

Of Tom ‘n Paul. Di Janeiro Joe, amazing cartoonist, piano player. I didn’t think you were cute enough or cool enough. I should’ve fallen for you on raw talent alone. I was such a dork. ack phifft.

Christopher 8/365

Very blonde kid in math class
Dedicated REO Speedwagon songs to me
Asked me out
I said no
Committed suicide
Was sure it was my fault
"A 'garage' accident."
His parents didn’t want to believe the truth.

Mr. Nichols 7/365

Coke bottle glasses.
Sat backwards in a student desk.

"Did you have an orgy this weekend? Look it up."

Drank cough syrup from a bottle in a paper bag at your desk.
You taught me to think.

Mr. Spanish Teacher 6/365

Held the lunch room door open for me.

“Gracias,” my only Spanish word.

He said, “De nada.”

I said, “Huh?”

He explained.

Hottest teacher in school. Everybody liked him.
He committed suicide. They say he shot himself.

Mr. Ball 5/365

Worst math teacher ever. Tall, slouching, balding, with a nasal voice, brown polyester in the neon 80’s. Bueller. Bueller. The nastiest comb over ever. Mr. Ball. Dick Ball. What 14 year old could possibly take you seriously?

Mr. Huserik 4/365

Best math teacher ever. Tall, slouching, balding, with red mustache and a nasal voice. Funny as hell. Called me Stanley. Such a methodical mind. Wish it were mine. Wanted it all to make so much sense, but it never did.

Mr. Gingerich 3/365

I was sure you were old because of the way you talked about the new hair growing out of your ears instead of from the top of your head, but really you were only my age. You made all the boys mad and all the girls cry and all of us better singers and musicians for it. Thank you for teaching us music theory every single year and turning us on to Amadeus. And for trusting me, pushing me with Dolly. You knew I would love her and I did.

Tom S. 2/365

"Nicely passing out the citrus." Best actor/singer/enigma. I was always trying to break through that shell to get to that gooey inside, but you never cracked. Always a pleasure working with you. I hear you’re still around.

Greg H. 1/365

My first friend at Ackerman Jr. High, my first boyfriend after The Move. We never kissed, though, because the other Karen, with an “e”, told me not to be friends with you because you were a geek. I was never friends with her, but dummy me, I broke up with you anyway. You were too smart and too lanky and all our moms loved you. They saw what we couldn’t, that you were a catch and that two years out of high school you’d grow into yourself and look like Tom Cruise.