My Friend Cherie

I have to write an 'Ode to Cherie'. She has certainly earned a very special place in my blog. Cherie and I have been friends now for about 6 years. For the last 2 years, she and her husband have lived down the street from me, in a house I coerced them to purchase for completely selfish reasons.

Cherie and I drive to work together every day. Most days I am still half asleep, but Cher is always awake ready to have a conversation about one of the following topics:

1. A dream she had the night before- usually involving some element of sci-fi, her dogs and a random person she and I conversed about the day before (or a combination thereof).
2. A prayer or writing she read that morning.
3. The traffic. This of course is a favorite topic, as we are always ever-present in traffic. It is Houston after all.

Let's talk about the traffic. Cherie spends the 45 minute commute being frustrated about her lane choices. Does anyone remember that scene in Office Space where the guy is driving to work, the lane that he is in is standing still while cars in the lane next to him are whizzing by and so he switches lanes- only for that lane to stand still and the lane he was once sitting in to be whizzing. This is what happens to us...every morning of every day.

Cherie is the most polite driver though. She lets people over, actually utilizes her blinker, and waves to thank people for letting her over in front of them. My philosophy for the morning commute is usually screw you, but I suppose those morning prayers are doing her a world of good.

Let's talk for a minute about the music in the morning. There is one album that dominates the morning commute- Shock Value. It just seems to bring us right into downtown and pump us up for the day ahead. Then there are the lyrics-- we all do it, well except Cherie, we all make up lyrics to songs when we are unsure of what the artist is actually saying. When I do this Cherie will stop the song and ask "what did they just say?" and when she does it, I will say "what did you just say?" Then I usually laugh histarically at the ridiculous word she has just made up to conveniently insert.

On the drive home we almost often times call her Motha, who we lovingly call by her first name "Sheila". I just realized that Sheila is a whole blog entry of her own and I will have to retire this part of the story for now.

And so the commuting goes...with my friend Cherie