Five Feet Twelve

Here’s part of a song I wrote (and performed!) for My Friend Manya’s wedding rehearsal dinner almost four years ago. Pretend her last name is “Spleen, ” okay? It isn’t, but it rhymes with spleen, and the song doesn’t scan without it:

Oh, she has blue eyes and she has blonde hair
She can drive her Jetta everywhere
She likes Winnie the Pooh and overalls
And she’s five feet twelve inches tall

Manya, Manya Spleen
The very best Manya that’s ever been seen
We go together like rice and beans
And if I had a kingdom, she could be queen

Yeah, yeah. Hold your applause. I only divulge it to let you know that this is the type of person Manya is…she just sort of inspires you to break out in song in her honor. I forgot to sing Happy Birthday into her answering machine…a time-honored Key Girl tradition…but I’ll fix that tomorrow. I’m sure she can’t wait. When we went on a mission trip to Mexico in the mid nineties, I made up another song about her, and people would sing it whenever she walked into the room. It was great. Want to know how that one went? It’s real easy:

“Manya Manya Manya, Manya Manya Manya, Manya Manya Manya, she’s Manya! Manya Spleen!”

Folks just love this girl. And really, what’s not to love? She is beautiful, funny, and stylish and she loves tater tots. She speaks German. She is married to the most freakishly awesome husband in the entire world. When we were in elementary school she used to sometimes come to school wearing like, a lederhosen outfit. With clogs. I would pay cash money to see her wear something like that now. She used to feel funny about being six feet tall so she’d tell people she was five foot twelve. I went on Outward Bound with her when we were in ninth grade and I spent a lot of time at her house playing Monopoly as a little kid. I’ve been a bridesmaid either for her or with her three times. (As a side note, seriously, yall need to come over and see my Bridesmaid photo gallery. It’s spilling off the bookshelves and onto the filthy carpet. It’s insane).

But all that’s in the past, something I touch on not infrequently in this journal. Want to know something so amazing and weird and tender and strange and exciting and thoughtful and every other emotion I can think of off the top of my head? Manya’s going to be a mom.

She is. She told me in July. I was blathering on about something or another and I asked about something else and she said “Chiara, I’m going to have a baby. You’re going to be an auntie.” I have to admit that my very first (and silent, thank heavens) reaction was “What? I’m too young for you to have children!” And then I got all disbelieving and teary-eyed. And then I started gushing, and asking innappropriate questions, and going “Really? Are you lying? For real? Are you sure? Are you positive? Whoa. Really?” And then, probably, I went back to talking about my favorite subject of me. Or something.

But I am so happy for her. This news, this huge change in her life, and her family’s life, and her friends’ lives, makes me miss her even more than ever. She was the first to get married (to the aforementioned fantastic husband Landy) and that was about the last time I spent any real time with her. We talk on the phone every couple of weeks at least, and I see her a little during Christmas, and of course I’ve been in several weddings with her…but it’s not enough. The night before she married, (after I sung the song) I burst into tears and started sobbing about how this was going to change everything and we’re not children any more and oh-my-gosh-can-you-believe-it-what-does-it-all-mean. I feel a little the same way now. She’s like this pioneer into adultness, but she doesn’t let it change who she is. She’s the first one to do big life-changing things, the one we’re holding up as our example of How To Do It Right. The best thing about her, of course, is that she’s totally unaware that anyone feels this way about her. Well, she was unaware until I confessed it on the internet, but whatever. She is more herself than most people I know. She’s just who she is, and she doesn’t bother with envying other people or pretending to be anyone else. How many people do you know like that? Can you imagine what it would be like to have a mom who was that way? I have to say, being her friend is one of the better things in my life, and I’ll bet you dollars to donuts everyone who knows her thinks the same.

Happy Birthday, Manya. I want to be just like you when I grow up, even if I have to wear six-inch heels to do it.


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