bye bye madame blue
Last night a group of friends got together to mourn the death of a loved one, Madame Blue. Madame Blue was a shiney, stellar, glittering water fountain. Well not a real water fountain, but a car. A Ford Escort to be exact. The mourners included: Tarah (in kimono), Me (in scented blue trash bag), Zach (in my Stl Cardinals hat), Susan (in bright Flintstone's costume), Paula (in Florida housewife clothes), and our suite mate/preacher, Emily, clad in a folded Japanese newspaper hat al la Tarah. We prayed, we sang as I strummed Beatles' songs passing lines around changing the lyrics to fit for Madame, and we paraded around campus celebrating her life. We received mixed responses: some people stared blankly, some wanted our numbers in case their cars died and they needed celebrants, some laughed, some forced a smirk, and some chose not to even make eye contact. But we could careless. This was Tarah's baby. And it's dead. Now Madame Blue can rest in peace safely in Junkyard Heaven. The ceremony helped Tarah release tension she's built up recently too. I was afraid she was going to eat me after the Roots concert. She was one unhappy girl scout. But it was all because she hadn't had the proper mourning process. She's fine now. And she has her parents' navy blue Oldsmobile now. Which I think has a great personality of her own. We just have to find her a name. Any suggestions?
Love, Allie
Love, Allie