I’m almost getting used to the taste of my feet. They have spent a lot of time in my mouth.
But I have to take some effort, perhaps minor surgery, to remove both of them this time.
You see, I compared a wonderful person and good friend to a kind of gross and crazy character on a sitcom. In order to clarify, I will now compare and contrast my neighbor and former TTC buddy, Gwen, to the tall and bizarre Seinfeld character, Cosmo Kramer.
There are two and only two ways the Gwen is like Kramer, which is the only reason I ever put my foot in my mouth in the first place, the first way is why I said it in a prior post:
1. If my doorbell rings when I’m not expecting anyone, it is probably Gwen.
2. She’s a little crazy. But she’s only crazy insomuch as all New Yorkers are crazy. First, you need to be crazy to spend so much money to live in such a cramped, dirty city with millions of other crazy people. Plus, if you weren’t crazy when you got here, it makes you kind of crazy. She is no more crazy than me. She is waaaaaaay less crazy than any Seinfeld character.
3. (Oops, I just thought of one more. Sorry, Gwen.) Ok, Kramer is my favorite character on Seinfeld. He is my favorite character because he is entertaining and he doesn’t care what other people think. Gwen is that way, too. But she’s that way in a Gwen way, not a Kramer way. That’s why I like her. I don’t think she has ever made me bored.
Here are some of the MANY ways Gwen differs from Kramer:
1. She rings the doorbell. Kramer just walks in.
2. She’s not tall and goofy looking, she’s petite and pretty.
3. She’s a girl. A pregnant girl. A pregnant with two girl twins girl.
4. Kramer is a mooch. Gwen is the opposite of a mooch. She is addicted to sharing and giving. We call each other’s kitchens, “The Other Pantry.” She always pays back and replaces things, like, threefold. Once she broke one of my wine glasses and bought me four new ones. I hadn’t even remembered that she broke one.
5. Kramer never watches my kid. But Gwen is occasionally referred to as Cake’s third mom. In fact, after she watched, fed, bathed and pajama-ed him tonight while we were at our midwife orientation (all despite the fact that I compared her to Kramer in a blog post), he was running up to her, hugging her legs and yelling, Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama. She watches him a lot. I will pay her back when those little girls get here, for reals.
6. Gwen has a job. You know? She earns money and stuff.
7. Did I mention she’s pretty?
8. Gwen never gets me into strange predicaments. The closest she got was when we had our book club, and I knew she was pregnant with twins, but no-one else did. And the book involved a birth of twins. Everyone started telling these twin birth horror stories, however I was too drunk after just getting my period to think of a clever way to stop the conversation without revealing her secret. She ended it pretty quickly by saying, “Ummm, guys? I’m pregnant with twins.”
9. I trust Gwen with a needle to my belly. How many people would you let stab you in the stomach night after night? She gave me all of my Menopur shots. (And Ovidrel) Pretty much all of them. That’s how much she kicks ass as a friend.
10. As far as I know, Gwen has never housed Japanese tourists in her dresser, comandeered a firetruck, or published a coffee table book about coffee tables. But that’s only as far as I know.
There are a zillion other ways she differs from Cosmo. Too many to list here. I hope someday she could see it in her humongous heart to forgive my sorry ass. Until then, I’m going to go whip myself with a wet noodle… er, fusilli.