Happy Birthday to My Friend Alis

One of my closest friends both loves me and cannot stand me simultaneously. (Come to think of it, several of my friends love me and kind not stand me simultaneously. I am Schrodinger’s friendship?)

Anyway, the reason they love me is because I am loyal and adoring and the human equivalent of a chonky Golden Retriever. This also the reason they loathe me. These friends are all cat-people … and  by that I do not mean they prefer cats as pets. I mean these friends are angry cats in human form. They don’t like people who have dog-like openness and enthusiasm. Those people are anathema to them and their superior aloof cat-energy. They particularly don’t like people who are the human equivalent of those floofy dogs who jump up to lick you and get mud on your clothes from sincere goodwill. But I am nonetheless their friend and they have repeatedly proven they will shred and bury anything or anyone foolish enough to hurt or scorn me. Only they may be exasperated by me! All others who deride me will be mocked in a sardonic tone of voice until they weep at the bitter fate they have evoked.

Which brings me to this picture I saw on tumblr:

This amused me to no end because it reminded me strongly of me and my friend Alis. My friend Alis is Dark and Bitter and full of Wrath and cannot abide the world and it’s nonsense. She is a human Baudelaire poem who especially cannot suffer the Pollyanna malarkey of optimists without sneering them into the ground. However, in spite of everything she holds sacred as a pessimist, she loves me. She loves me in all my goofy glory, even though at times I think my stupid sunshine-hope that the world we live in will one day be a better place corrodes her Goth soul like acid.

I am her witless ball of cheer and she’ll eat the face off anyone who remarks on my annoying toddler-level enthusiasms.

And I really appreciate that about her.

Happy Birthday, Alis!